


happy little pill [take as needed]

by langstwins



Series: happy little pill 'verse [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Dom/Sub, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, BDSM, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Blow Jobs, Bullying, Consensual Sex, Corporal Punishment, Depressed Lance (Voltron), Dom Adam (Voltron), Dom Keith (Voltron), Dom Pidge (mentioned), Dom/sub, Dominance, Don't Like Don't Read, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Gay Keith (Voltron), Hand Jobs, Hurt Lance (Voltron), Hurt/Comfort, I feel like i should clarify that, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Internalized Bigotry, Internalized Biphobia, Just to leave comments that you dont like bdsm, Keith (Voltron) Angst, Keith is a good nice boi, Keith is not the one hurting lance by the way, Keith/Lance (Voltron) Angst, Lance (Voltron) Angst, M/M, Masturbation in Shower, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Panic Attacks, Past Child Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Keith (Voltron), Rape, Rape Aftermath, Rape Recovery, Sad Lance (Voltron), Semi-Public Sex, Service Submission, Slow Burn, Slut Shaming, Smart Lance, Space Dad Shiro (Voltron), Sub Hunk (mentioned), Sub Lance (Voltron), Sub Shiro (Voltron), Submission, Suicidal Lance (Voltron), Victim Blaming, Worried Keith (Voltron), don't go reading this whole ass thing, dont like it dont click on it, self blame, seriously
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-19
Updated: 2018-12-28
Packaged: 2019-08-26 04:24:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 93
Words: 105,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16674457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/langstwins/pseuds/langstwins
Summary: This wasn't supposed to be Lance's experience at the Galaxy Garrison.Lance fought to get into this school to prove that a sub could do anything a Dom could, not to be taken advantage of for his instinctual need as a sub to obey. Not to become the plaything of any Dom who decided they wanted him. Not to be raped. Not to be suicidal.This wasn't supposed to be Keith's experience at the Galaxy Garrison, either.Keith was supposed to keep his temper in check, get good grades, and finally make something of himself. Keith was supposed to win back the trust of his adoptive fathers after far too many wrong turns. Keith was not supposed to fall in love with a damaged sub.Sometimes the path you never intended to walk is the right one, after all.(Or: Keith and Lance, in small doses. Take as needed.)





	1. when i grow up i want to be nothing at all

**Author's Note:**

> hey everyone! 
> 
> I know the Dom/sub AU's that used to be so popular have been pretty much overrun by ABO AU's, but I'm still so into Dom/sub AU's ngl. for anyone who doesn't know, Dom/sub is essentially the same thing as ABO but without heats and ruts.
> 
> you've probably already read the tags if you're reading the notes, but I want to stress again - this story deals HEAVILY with rape and recovery from it. there will be eventual consensual Klance smut. when the smut arrives, it will start out light for obvious reasons, but it will eventually be hot and kinky as hell. just wait for it. patience yields focus, klancers.
> 
> I know the chapters are short. it's intentional. it's an aesthetic thing. because, you know, the name of the story is "happy little pill [take as needed]"...so it's like I'm prescribing the story to you in little doses...i'm trying to pretend i'm deep and artistic, just roll with it.
> 
> i would say enjoy, but uh. there is explicit rape below and it's pretty damn sad. so instead of enjoy, let's say...please let me know your thoughts!

This was okay. This was fine. Lance was used to this.

"Please, _please_ , I - I safeworded, okay? Please stop. God, please stop."

The Dom bouncing above him paid no mind, continuing to pleasure herself on his half-soft cock. Lance choked on a sob, his stomach rolling in disgust. He pulled at his restraints desperately, only managing to tie the knots tighter around his own wrists.

"Please," he begged, unable to stop the tears running freely down his face and the panic clawing its way up his throat. The vibrator in his ass and the wet pussy on his cock were becoming painful with the overstimulation of having already cum. "Please, please stop. I don't want to. I don't _want_ to, it hurts. Red light. _Stop_."

The Dom - what was her name again? Lance felt bad for forgetting, but he was only allowed to call her Ma'am, anyways - brought the back of her hand down hard across his face.

"Shut the fuck up," she snarled. "Take it like a good little sub. I'm the fucking Dom here, you slut."

Lance turned his face into the pillows, openly sobbing, trying to block out the girl's sharp cries of pleasure as she came for the second time. He felt his mind slipping into some weird, unhealthy version of subspace against his will. Or maybe he was just disassociating. He really didn't know anymore.

Time passed strangely either way. One moment, he was blocking out the Dom's voice, trying to fight off a panic attack and failing. The next moment, the restraints were gone, the sun was setting outside his window, and Lance was alone with dried cum smeared over his body.

Lance didn't sleep that night. He stayed awake and cried, scrubbing every surface the Dom could have possibly touched. He didn't want her DNA on him, in him, anywhere near him.

This wasn't the first time, but every time was just as horrible.

This was okay. This was fine. Lance was used to this.


	2. i'm broken glass, never meant to last

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith didn't know how to do that. How to be angry and still love somebody at the same time.
> 
> And now he wanted to cry. God, that was just fucking fantastic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> have any questions or suggestions for this fic? send me an ask on tumblr! my blog is langst-wins. 
> 
> enjoy!

"You guys really don't have to monitor my every move, you know."

Shiro arched a single eyebrow in cold disbelief, and Keith at least had the grace to look away.

"I think we really do," Shiro said shortly. "When you can go two months without trying to run away like a child, we'll talk."

It wasn't like that. Shiro _knew_ it wasn't like that. Keith clenched two tight fists at his sides, that familiar rage bubbling up his throat. For one fleeting moment, he considered using his Dom status over Shiro's sub instincts, commanding that he move out from in front of the door and let him leave at once.

The thought was gone as quickly as it had come. A horrible, _did I really just think that_ guilt took its place. Keith had never done that to Shiro before. To any sub, actually. He wasn't that kind of Dom.

He refused to be.

"Keith."

He kept his eyes planted firmly on the tile of the kitchen floor. This was not a conversation he wanted to have right now. Or ever.

" _Keith_. Look at me."

And Keith did. He didn't have to, not really, but he did. He was pissed off, but he would be respectful. Shiro deserved at least that much after everything he'd done for him. Besides, if Adam found out he was treating Shiro as anything less than the authority figure he was, there would be hell to pay.

Keith's anger melted and trickled away at the soft look in Shiro's eyes. His fathers both had a way of doing that; of being so calm and gentle, even when they were angry, leaving no doubt in Keith's mind that, whatever he'd done wrong this time, it didn't change the fact that they loved him. That they would always love him.

He didn't know how to do that. How to be angry and still love somebody at the same time.

And now he wanted to cry. God, that was just fucking fantastic.

"I know you want to believe it..." Shiro took a deep breath, steadying himself. They both knew what he was going to say. "But there's...there's nothing out there, kiddo."

"There _is_ -"

" _No_ , Keith. There isn't. There's no energy. There's nothing in those caves, buddy."

And now Keith _was_ crying, a single tear trickling down his cheek. He brushed it away furiously. Shiro was on his feet in an instant, both arms wrapped around him, and Keith pressed his face into the older man's chest, inhaling the familiar scent of a favorite cologne he and Adam shared. It smelled like home.

"Your mother, whoever she was," Shiro whispered, far too kind for the situation, "she didn't leave anything behind, bud. She's just...she's just gone. I'm sorry."

He was wrong. Keith knew he was wrong. But he wasn't going to fight it. In one month, he would be eighteen, and they wouldn't be able to keep him here anymore. He could wait one month.

For now, he held onto Shiro like the tether to reality that he was, and breathed.


	3. i can take it if you need to take this out on someone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He was the only Dom Lance could see himself - possibly, maybe - trusting. Perhaps even befriending.
> 
> It was too bad Kogane hated his guts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> open up! here's the third pill!

They used to think he was a badass.

When Lance first started at the Garrison, he held himself all arrogance and smirks, puffing up his chest in hopes of fitting in with the Doms. He was one sub out of a very small handful of others in a school that was built around helping Doms thrive. He had to stand his ground.

Standing his ground, he very quickly learned, was difficult when his submissive instincts led him to cower under the indignance of classmates when he beat their high scores. His secret was out within a month.

And things changed.

Doms groped his ass in the hallways, looked down on him with sneers, sabotaged his work in the simulators in feeble attempts to prove subs were not cut out for the rough and tough Galaxy Garrison curriculum.

Lance wanted to fight back. He wanted to throw punches like Keith Kogane did, wanted to stand tall and proud and radiate an undeniable aura of authority. He wanted to _be a Dom._

But he didn't, because he wasn't. Instead, he cowered and whimpered and begged. He moved without his own permission. He obeyed every order of _pants off, now_ and _blow me_ and _let me fuck you_ , even as his mind screamed and his hands shook and his heart raced. Even as his mouth begged _please, I don't want to, please stop_.

Lance couldn't tell them no. It was, apparently, a physical impossibility. And now he saw why his father and his brother Marco had insisted he needed to find a Dom to claim him the second he reached the legal threshold of sixteen years. Now he understood why they thought a sub should not go anywhere without their Dom holding them on a literal leash.

If he was claimed, no Dom would dare approach him. If he was claimed, his mate would rip the head off of anyone who tried.

But if he was claimed, he still wouldn't be safe. His Dom, too, would use his instincts of obedience against him - force him to do their will, ignore his pleas and his cries of pain, just like Doms always did. Just like he heard his mother cry at night. He used to lie with the pillow pressed over his head, desperate to block out the sounds, and Veronica would assure him at breakfast the next morning that it was normal and healthy.

It wasn't only that he wasn't safe here alone. He wasn't safe anywhere. Period.

Nobody thought he was a badass, confident predator anymore. They saw him for what he was: weak. Incapable of becoming even a halfway decent fighter-pilot. A sub so feeble-minded that he obeyed every snarled command, even as his head screamed at his hands to stop. A slut.

And now Lance was starting to see it, too. Everyone saw.

Everyone, it seemed, besides Keith Kogane.

Kogane...was an enigma.

He was one of the many Doms who once believed _Lance_ was a Dom. One of the ones who snarled at him in the halls when Lance confidently mocked his barely-lower scores. One of the ones who talked about _McClain, that feral butch Dom, ugh_. One of the ones he'd fooled.

But Kogane was not one of the ones who groped Lance in the hallways and treated him like the dirty slut he was when he was outed as a sub. Kogane was actually...the only one who _didn't_ change.

Kogane still snarled at him in the halls, seemingly oblivious to the lack of response as Lance struggled to ignore him, fought back the panic clawing at his airways, fought the urge to fall to his knees and plead forgiveness for a nonexistent wrongdoing.

Which lead Lance to wonder, more than once, if maybe...maybe Kogane was a nicer guy than he'd originally thought.

Maybe he saw subs as equals. Maybe he really only hated Lance because of the snarky comments and the put-downs, and not because of a bigoted outlook on his biological status.

Maybe Kogane wasn't actually half-bad. He was the only Dom in the entire damn school to whom the thought of taking advantage of a sub didn't seem to be appealing.

He was the only Dom Lance could see himself - possibly, maybe - trusting. Perhaps even befriending.

It was too bad Kogane hated his guts. 


	4. i hate everything about you (why do i, why do i, why do i)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith Kogane despised What's-His-Face McClain. Loathed him with such an intensity that he sometimes frightened himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope y'all are good at getting down hard to swallow pills because pill #4 is much larger than i actually intended it to be. keith just...has so many FEELINGS for lance. i couldn't help myself, the words were flowing. 
> 
> plz don't get ur hopes up and get used to this, y'all. this ain't gonna be common. most chapters will still remain between 500-1,000 words, even though there will be chapters like this sprinkled throughout if i feel like i can write them without forcing the words out. my adhd ass would never be able to finish a multichapter fic if i couldn't write it in short bursts.
> 
> ANYWAYS - please enjoy!
> 
> have any questions or suggestions for this fic, or just want to see more klance content? check out my tumblr blog, langst-wins! you can find updates and notes on this fic between updates as i write it, and if you have a question about this fic, my other fics, or anything else, you can send a public or anonymous ask!

Keith Kogane despised What's-His-Face McClain.

Loathed him with such an intensity that he sometimes frightened himself.

As a general rule, Keith didn't pay much mind to his classmates. The only reason he was still in school was because Shiro and Adam didn't give him much (read: any) say in the matter. He wasn't there to make friends. He didn't _do_ friendship.

But McClain - _God_ , that guy was one annoying son of a bitch.

He'd started at the Garrison as a senior, which was odd enough in and of itself. They typically only accepted freshmen as new students. His pre-testing scores must have been insane for Iverson to even consider admitting him so late in his school career.

And at first, Keith was actually impressed by McClain. Actually considered maybe _befriending_ someone, which was something he'd never once in his life wanted.

For God's sake, the guy beat Keith's high score in the snow planet simulator _on his first day_. Keith earned that score halfway through the previous school year, and in six months, nobody had managed to get within two hundred points of it.

Until McClain showed up.

He blasted Keith's best work out of the water. Iverson had even checked all the simulator programs before letting the next group go, just to make sure McClain's team wasn't cheating.

Sure, his score was only a measly five points higher, but he'd breezed through the score boards with _ease_. Like this wasn't his first time in the exclusive, high-tech Garrison simulators. Like he'd been piloting all of his life (and for all Keith knew, maybe he had.) The guy was...honestly, an _amazing_ pilot. Just as good as Keith himself, if not better.

Which was cool, Keith could admit.

Would have been cooler if the dude wasn't also a gigantic asswipe.

McClain - _Lance_ , was that his first name? Something like that, but who fucking cared - was a sore winner. He sneered proudly at Keith any and every time he saw him, mocking the five point difference like it was something worth holding over someone's head. It was actually... _shocking_ how out of touch with reality he was. He was easily the most arrogant bastard Keith had ever had the displeasure of meeting.

McClain was an aggressive, "traditional" Dom, through and through.

Suddenly Keith was...not so impressed by McClain anymore.

His outstanding scores quickly became meaningless to Keith. If he kept up that cockiness, he'd get himself killed the minute he stepped foot in a real ship, regardless of how well he did in the sims. Keith knew he wasn't in any position to talk about people who didn't think things through, but at least he recognized his flaws. At least he was working on it.

Shiro and Adam seemed to have found some amusement in him coming home every day the first week of school, slinging his backpack onto the couch in a fury and ranting about that _feral dumbass, who the hell does he think he is?_

_Sheesh. If you were a sub, I'd say it sounds like you've got a monster crush on this boy_ , Adam joked once. Both him and Shiro had laughed hysterically when Keith shot what he personally thought was his most piercing glare.

Nothing fazed Adam. He was a Dom bastard, too, but not like McClain was. Adam was a nice Dom bastard. A gentle, good, caring Dom bastard. One of the only two people on the planet Keith had ever loved.

Besides, Keith secretly found his comment pretty funny.

The idea of McClain being a sub was downright _laughable_. Subs were, in Keith's experience, much nicer to be around than Doms. They had a strong tendency toward kindness, modesty, maturity.

A sub girl in Keith's third grade class was the closest he'd ever come to making a friend, even though it was uncommon for subs and Doms who weren't family or romantic mates to spend any significant amount of time together. She had given Keith the sweetest hugs, softly asking if he was okay, if she could do anything to help, when the other Dom boys teased his quiet-by-nature disposition and his newly orphaned status and she found him angrily wiping tears from his face under the slide.

She was...she was really nice. Much nicer than any of the hyper, loud, rough-playing Dom girls in their class. His foster mother of a mere two weeks had joked that of course he thought she was nice, since he was meant to claim a sweet sub girl like her one day, after all.

The bubbly Dom foster woman had then grown strangely quiet when Keith looked up from his homework to blatantly inform her that he wasn't so sure he wanted to claim anyone. She flinched in outright disgust when he went on to say that, even if he did find a mate, it would most definitely be a cute boy sub with a rebellious streak, someone he could laugh and play with. Not a girl who would fall to her knees and call him Sir and be scared of him like the woman's mate was so clearly scared of her. Not a girl in general.

Keith couldn't remember that kind little girl's name anymore. He felt horrible for forgetting. But to his credit, he'd...been through a _lot_ in the years between then and now. He wondered if she had, too.

Some Doms were okay, like Adam. But the fact that most Doms tended to butt heads anyway clashed terribly with Keith's anger control issues. Subs were so much more pleasant to interact with.

Keith was mortified at his own internal thoughts when Adam's comment led him down a dangerous mental path.

If McClain was a sub, he'd be a different person entirely, Keith firmly believed. He'd be kinder. He'd also probably be the brattiest pillow princess in the world. He was, admittedly, a true piece of eye candy, despite his disgusting personality, only solidifying Keith's belief in his own homosexuality.

If McClain was a sub, he would be the kind of adorable, spunky, kitten-with-claws sub that even Keith could get a boner for. The kind of sub he enjoyed watching in his few and far between dips into internet porn ( _God_ , he loved the brats, the teases, the ones who rebelled because they secretly _wanted_ a punishment. Obedience, who was that? Keith didn't know her.)

What with the utter hell his life had been thus far, Keith never had much time to ponder on subs and romance. But if McClain was a sub, he would be the rare kind of sub Keith might actually be able to see himself claiming.

If McClain was a sub, he might at least be bearable without the competitive edge most Doms tended to carry. If McClain was a sub, maybe Keith would be able to ignore him like he ignored everyone else, and move on with his life.

But McClain, unfortunately, wasn't a sub. He was a Dom. A really, really awful, asshole of a Dom, and Keith felt a genuine pang of pity for the poor girl or guy who would be claimed as his sub one day. Whoever they were, they were in for a rough life.

And _that_ realization was what dug the shard of shrapnel anger deep into Keith, turning his distaste for McClain into a blooming hatred.

McClain would very soon grow up to be the kind of pilot who cared nothing for the safety of his crew, and even worse, the kind of Dom who treated his sweet, vulnerable sub like a plaything instead of a beloved treasure. And there was little to nothing Keith could do about any of it, except ignore him and hope to one day forget he'd ever existed.

And then, Keith wasn't only unimpressed by Lance McClain. He _hated_ him.

He hated him with a deep, ugly passion that would make Shiro frown in great disapproval, and make Adam once again try to convince Keith into the anger management counseling the courts had suggested when they first adopted him.

So he didn't tell them. After that first week, Keith kept his mouth shut about McClain at home.

He enjoyed what little time he had left with his fathers (for he would, eventually, get back to that shack, those caves, and find whatever vague silhouette was left of his mother in this world) and tried let this random Dom fade into the background of his life. He let that hatred simmer on the backburner, boiling briefly and unleashing a sneer from his lips whenever he caught McClain's eye, but deliberately ignored otherwise.

He had better things to worry about.

And he thought that would be the end of it. But his plans were disrupted, like always.

That seemed to be the motto for his feelings toward Lance McClain - always changing, shapeshifting, never standing still.

Because McClain didn't sneer first anymore the way he used to. He didn't sneer back, either. In fact, he seemed to be...completely ignoring Keith.

He didn't gloat. He didn't puff up his chest in pride. He kept his shoulders hunched, his head down, avoiding eye contact with not only Keith but everyone else, too. Keith couldn't believe it, but despite his disdain, he actually felt _concerned_.

It killed him, and he hated it, but it was true. There was an inexplicable, sharp stab of worry in his chest when he saw McClain nowadays, looking downright depressed.

_Was_ he depressed? Was that what was happening to him? Maybe the poor guy was suicidal. 

Oh, _God_ , was he suicidal?

Why did Keith _care_ so goddamn much? Why couldn't he stop thinking about _him_ , about his sad eyes and his thousand yard stare, about all of it?

It happened again, the day after Keith's mortifying mini-breakdown when he tried to make yet another break for it, only to find Shiro camped out in a recliner by the door. He saw McClain, looking a pathetic level of sad, clearly trying so hard to fade into the background amongst a sea of rowdy students. But Keith didn't sneer this time.

He caught McClain's eye, careful to keep his expression neutral, and watched the colorful array of emotions flashing over the other Dom's face. Fear (that couldn't be right) to confusion (that seemed about right) to cold, uncaring, indifferent (that was...right? Maybe? Who fucking knew anymore?)

And Keith thought that he maybe, possibly, didn't quite hate Lance (since when did he think of him as _Lance_ , since when was that a thing, Lord help him he was losing it) as much as he thought he did. Or maybe he did hate him, and Keith just...had a bigger heart and stronger sense of empathy than he thought?

Ew. No. That wasn't it.

Keith was -

_Conflicted._

He was conflicted. Because here was this total asshole, who Keith _hated_ , suddenly looking perpetually lonely and sad and in desperate need of a pat on the shoulder and somebody to tell him _things will work themselves out._

But therein lay the problem: the guy might be a sad asshole, but he was still an _asshole_.

So Keith kept his distance. He didn't let McClain's puppy dog eyes and slowly slipping scores, dropping him lower and lower on the best-of-the-best boards with each passing week, get to him.

It was none of his business.

He ignored the urge he felt to protect, to comfort, at the odd shift of emotions on the guy's face when Keith, for the first time ever, looked at him without anger or hatred burning in his eyes. He ignored the way that constant sadness made him want to befriend the other Dom, ask both his fathers and the internet about the best ways to help someone who was depressed, do _something_ to make sure he was _okay_.

Keith brushed off the emotions, explained away the sudden protective urges as Dom hormones running rampant in an adolescent brain.

He brushed off _Lance goddamn fucking McClain_ , and moved along. 

(He tried. He really, really tried.)


	5. you and me, we got big reputations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After seven (very long, very tiring) years of teaching an Advanced Physics class at the Galaxy Garrison, Adam Wyler thought he'd seen it all in regards to the things his students got up to distracting themselves with during class. He was wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: guys don't get excited by how long #4 is, they're not all going to be this long.
> 
> also me: *makes #5 just as long*
> 
> this one is from adam's POV! open up for pill #5! nom nom nom.

After seven (very long, very tiring) years of teaching an Advanced Physics class at the Galaxy Garrison, Adam Wyler thought he'd seen it all in regards to the things his students got up to distracting themselves with during class.

He was wrong.

When he heard giggles behind his back as he tried to demonstrate the usage of a particularly difficult formula on the glowboard, he knew something was up. This lesson - all of his lessons, actually - typically made for groans and whiny complaints. Though he might have occasionally earned a few laughs when he tried to lighten the mood with some cheesy periodic table jokes (he was well-liked amongst the student body for a reason.)

But these weren't our-teacher-is-such-a-nerd laughs. These were stifled behind the hand, shush-he's-going-to-hear-us _giggles_.

He really wasn't surprised to turn around and find the entire class gathered around Darcy's desk, grinning at the graviphone she held up on display. Or, most of the class, he should say. The two subs he had this period remained at their desks, gazes firmly locked on their notes and the glowboard respectively, looking intensely uncomfortable.

He _was_ surprised at the familiar genre of sounds from a vaguely familiar voice that radiated from the phone. Adam, who liked to consider himself a rather headstrong and unwavering Dom, honest to God _blushed_ when the recognition of it struck him.

Because the sounds were the wet, slick sounds of repeated - _sexual penetration_ \- mingled with the kind of soft, whimpering moans and _please, please_ 's that Adam had only ever heard in person from his sweet, strong, obedient, claimed-for-life sub, Takashi. The voice was much higher than Shiro's deep timber, but still undeniably that of a sub.

Adam felt guilty just listening to those sounds coming from a sub that didn't belong to him. How could these kids so openly watch that, giggling and blushing at the sensuality of it, without feeling bad? Watching it in front of two subs, no less, oblivious to the discomfort of their more emotionally vulnerable peers.

Adam knew for a _fact_ that a few local, non-boarding students already had their own claimed subs living with them in their parents' homes, going through classes at public school and likely looking forward to being with their Doms in a few hours' time. Subs whose feelings would likely be very hurt if they learned their mates were at their primarily Dom school with all their Dom friends, watching porn, rather than waiting to come home to them for the real thing.

God, Dom kids these days were so damn ballsy. Where was the respect? The chivalry? Adam blamed pop culture. Or something like that.

"Alright, you guys, that's enough," Adam sighed, slapping the glowmarker down on his desk with purposeful intensity. He tried to calm himself, willing the embarrassed blush off his face, and thanked his lucky stars this wasn't Keith's period in his class. He would have held this over Adam's head for the rest of eternity. "I _know_ you know this is inappropriate for school. And Trinity, Aleck, Jones - how would your subs feel about you watching this kind of thing without them? I think they'd be pretty hurt."

The three aforementioned Doms at least had the sense to flash their professor vaguely guilty looks, mumbling apologies as they reluctantly found their seats again. The other students were slower to disperse, but disperse they did.

Darcy kept her eyes locked on her graviphone, though, a knowing smirk on her lips.

That voice - _really_ sounded familiar.

"Turn it off, Darcy," Adam commanded. She glanced up at him, grinned wider, and turned the volume up a couple of button presses, watching for his reaction. Anger coursed through his veins, and Adam was thankful he'd learned to control that side of Domhood in his youth. This kid was a damn piece of work. "I said turn it _off_ , or you'll have to explain to Iverson in detail exactly _how_ you disrupted my class."

Adam gave her one more chance, another ten seconds, before he walked calmly over to her desk and pried the glass-thin device from her grip.

And as he went to close the internet tab that was open to the porn video, Adam flinched almost violently and averted his eyes, his stomach clenching in discomfort, because he knew now why that voice sounded so familiar.

Because the closed-eyed, open-mouthed face on the screen was that of Lance McClain, one of his students.

A poor kid who'd tried to pretend he was a Dom for the sake of his reputation, fooling none of the teachers, who were informed ahead of time of each student's status, but successfully tricking the entire student body. Adam remembered watching the progression of the kid's first few weeks with a heavy feeling in his stomach; a feeling that told him this would neither last long nor end well.

He'd inevitably been outed as a sub when he wasn't able to keep up his façade of aggression, just as Adam had suspected. Adolescents subs were...kind of an emotional wreck compared to younger or older subs.

Children showed signs of submissive behavior early, but still found it relatively easy to deny a Dom's order, though it made them uncomfortable to do so. And adult subs were typically able to veto the commands of Doms they didn't belong to ("Kind of like trying not to sneeze, or scratch an itch; it takes practice," Shiro had quenched his curiosity once.)

Teenagers were different. Rampant hormones and rapidly developing brains made life difficult for teenagers in general, but being a sub added a whole new level of challenge.

Adam knew this Lance kid for a reason beyond being his teacher, though. Keith used to complain all the time about Lance being such an annoying Dom, much to his and Shiro's informed amusement, though they never corrected him for the sake of not outing Lance. But Keith stopped talking about Lance altogether once the kid's true status as an unclaimed sub was made known.

Adam was thankful for that. He and Shiro hadn't put so much time and energy into raising Keith the past four years just for him to turn around and be yet another case of foster kid Domhood gone wrong.

Lance, who was a talented pilot and a nice enough kid, if a little on the slow side, had apparently decided to embrace the unfortunate rumors of him being a "slut," and was now creating and posting pornographic videos of himself with his Dom classmates.

Adam felt horribly dirty after looking at and listening to that, like he needed a long, hot shower. Lance was his student, and he was just a _child_.

An unclaimed child, at that. Though it was perfectly legal for Lance to do so, Adam personally thought he really shouldn't be having sex outside of a claim until he was at least twenty-one, let alone making porn out of it. It was common knowledge that having sex without wearing a modern claiming collar had undesirable effects on the hormonal balances and brain chemistry of adolescent subs.

Shiro himself had used a collar when Adam claimed him at age seventeen, and worn it proudly until he realized years later that it was hindering any chance of advancing his career. It now sat in the top drawer of their nightstand, used only in private, just for old times' sake. They were both still rather bitter about the fact that Shiro couldn't proudly proclaim Adam's possession of him, which was a natural and beautiful thing, if he wanted to be taken seriously.

Adam found it sad, really, that young Lance thought he needed to give himself away to his classmates just to be liked by them and keep his rightfully earned reputation as one of the school's top fighter pilots.

He found it even sadder that it was most likely true. Subs were not taken very seriously around here.

As if the collar discrimination issue wasn't enough, Shiro was also perfectly qualified to be teaching fighter pilot courses, and yet he was assigned as a substitute cargo pilot instructor instead. He only worked half the days that Adam did, and with an ever-changing schedule. The rest of his time was spent at home, or wandering the town in boredom. He always said he didn't care, but Adam knew by the hurt and indignant look in his lover's eyes as he watched Dom after Dom be promoted before him that he actually cared quite a bit.

But, dismaying lack of sub rights aside, Lance's interesting choice of... _extra cirricular activities_ was none of Adam's business. He wasn't going to get involved. Lance was eighteen now, meaning this wouldn't be considered illegal pornography. Adam wasn't this child's father, and it wasn't his place. He just didn't need to have this sort of content on display in his classroom.

"You can get this graviphone back from me at the end of class," Adam told Darcy, keeping his voice purposely unaffected. He wasn't going to reward her bad behavior with any more attention than necessary.

The young Dom smiled at him. Not a smirk this time; a sickeningly sweet smile, with more than a touch of sarcasm.

"Yes, Proffessor Wyler!" She said in a falsely eager tone, earning a few hesitant chuckles from the other students.

Adam took a deep, steadying breath as he placed the phone in his desk drawer and returned his attention to the glowboard.

It was going to be a _very_ long day.


	6. (i just wanna know) what your best friend knows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hunk didn't hang out with Lance anymore - couldn't even meet his eyes, in fact. Lance hardly blamed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i realized when i finished the outline last night that i kinda messed up the timeline for keith's birthday in chapter 2. i originally said his b-day was 5 months away, but keith's birthday is canonically in October. so i went back and changed that; chapter 2 now says his birthday is one month away.
> 
> also: the story has been mostly exposition and backstory until now but HOLD ONTO YOUR SEATS, because this is the last chapter that will be mostly exposition. the next chapter and every chapter beyond will be more actual storytelling than this stream of thought style. this was all necessary to lay the groundwork for the actual storytelling, but i'm excited to pick up the pace! 
> 
> i have this entire story outlined and...guys. you think you're sad now? y'all ain't even READY for next 87 chapters. you bout to be shook
> 
> please enjoy #6! as usual you can ask me questions about this fic or anything else by sending me an ask on tumblr; my blog is langst-wins.
> 
> (oh; and happy turkey day!)

"So, uh, how...how have you been?"

Hunk Garrett shuffled his feet awkwardly, hands held behind his back and gaze locked downward as he spoke. Lance blinked back tears. Could he really not look Lance in the eye anymore? Was he that disgusting, that big of a slut, that someone who used to call him a friend couldn't even _look_ at him for fear of catching his filth?

Lance hardly blamed him.

"Fine," he said hoarsely. His voice always seemed to be hoarse these days. From disuse. From crying and begging. From genitalia shoved down his throat against his will. You know, the usual. "I'm fine. You?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm good." Hunk's voice was higher in pitch than usual. He cleared his throat. His very pores practically oozed discomfort.

When Lance first started at the Garrison what felt like a lifetime ago, though it hadn't even been two months, Hunk was the first friend he made. The only friend he made, actually.

Hunk was a sub like him, and a damn kind one, at that. Lance had never met somebody with a bigger heart in his whole damn life. He was also fairly certain Hunk was one of the smartest kids in the entire school; he was not fooled by Lance's Dom persona for even a second.

A memory of Hunk's perplexed words echoed in Lance's mind, the sound of his own laughter an accent to it. _I didn't even know you were hiding it! I thought you just had an attitude! Some Doms like that kind of thing!_

His sweet smiles as he shared his notes with Lance, who had yet again slept in and missed the first fifteen minutes of class. His belly-laughter at Lance's obnoxious jokes in the privacy of their own respective dorms (Lance used to do that, didn't he? Used to crack jokes in a neverending stream. That felt so far away now.) His pinky-promise to a fearful new friend - _your secret's safe with me._

They'd barely been friends for a month before Lance's secret came out. Before suspicions arose and somebody decided it was about time to test them. Before a Dom stopped him in the hall one day and demanded he drop his pants and Lance, frozen in fear, shaking, obeyed, because _oh God he couldn't disobey he might be punished like when his mother said no and his father struck her and she fell to the floor and oh God oh God oh God._

And then the rumors started.

The rumors of Lance McClain embracing his true nature, his subhood, his whoredom, and giving out free blowjobs in the bathroom. And, even more horrifying, the rumors that he did so consensually.

He never did. He never did. He never did.

Nobody cared.

Hunk stopped hanging out with him, abruptly, without warning. Left him cold and alone and desperate for just a simple _hug_.

_My, uh, parents really want me to thrive here, you know? I know you're on a scholarship, but my family's paying a lot for me to be here. So I...I can't really jeopardize my reputation. You understand, man. Right?_

Of course. Of course Lance understood.

He also understood when Hunk almost immediately started hanging out with a smart, long-haired, honey-eyed Dom girl. Katie "Pidge" Holt, but she would throw hands at anyone who dared call her Katie.

She was nice enough. She gave him friendly smiles when they happened to cross paths in the hall. At least, she did until Lance started flinching violently at the eye contact. Until he became too afraid to look any Dom in the eye for fear they would take the attention as an invitation.

Hunk made the right choice.

A nice Dom who would be able to fend off the more vicious ones was a much better friend to have than the bad influence of a slutty sub. A slutty sub who could so easily, in a mere three weeks, go from holding his head high in confidence to trembling at every sudden movement and sound. A weak, _weak_ little bastard, that's what he was.

Hunk made the right choice.

Who wanted a sick, disgusting whore for a best friend? Who wanted to look at a piece of used trash sitting beside them in class every day? Who in their right mind would associate with that?

Hunk made the right choice.

Lance didn't even blame the Doms who had done this to him, really. They wouldn't have been able to turn him into this mewling mess if he hadn't let them. It wasn't their fault he was so pathetic. This was Hunk's fourth year at the Garrison, and he'd been open about his sub status all along, but nothing like this had ever happened to him (as far as Lance knew.) Because Hunk didn't _let_ it happen to him.

Hunk made the right choice.

Lance was not angry. He would have done the same thing.

Lance wanted a friend. He so badly wanted to burst, to tell someone what had happened, what was still happening, to beg for help.

But that wasn't Hunk's problem anymore. _He_ wasn't Hunk's problem anymore. And it wouldn't be fair for Lance to impose on someone who clearly wasn't interested.

So he painted on a smile, watching Hunk's feet shuffle, and said, "That's good. I'm...glad you're doing good."

The doors to the simulator opened, and Hunk's group was called. He turned on his feet so fast Lance was surprised he didn't give himself whiplash. He never responded, all but running away from the stilted small talk ( _and the slut, you, he's running from sick, disgusting you_.)

Lance didn't blame him. Lance was not angry. Hunk made the right choice.


	7. sick joke, sick joke, that's all i'll ever be to anyone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Only death could help him at this point, Lance had to admit now, after weeks of denial. Only death could make this stop stop stop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here's another BIG PILL. 
> 
> this was originally a shortie when I finished writing it. like 1/3 the length it is now. but I realized this chapter would be a good opportunity to explore lance's current state of mind a little more, so I went back through and added some exposition between the actual storytelling.
> 
> this is still the chapter that really kicks off the storytelling, though, like I said before. this lays the groundwork for multiple subplots that will be weaved throughout the story.
> 
> as usual my tumblr is langst-wins! there you can get updates on the story between chapters as i write it, and i've actually posted a playlist for this story on my blog as well! 
> 
> enjoy!

The once-soft skin of his hands had gone dry, and the knuckles were chapped and cracked. Lance rubbed them together, frowning, a nameless feeling in his chest. He'd never let his hands get dry before. Back home, he'd moisturized them religiously. Veronica teased him about it all the time (he missed her, even missed her teasing, hadn't talked to her in so long, how was she doing in college?)

He thought it was safe to assume the unattractive state of his hands had something to do with washing them about a thousand times a day in scalding water. During school hours, that was the closest he could get to scrubbing himself raw in the shower, which was what he really wanted.

His hands didn't bear most of the weight of his sins. That burden belonged elsewhere on his grotesque body. But he would take what minimal illusion of cleanliness he could get.

His hands felt cold today, too, and _that_ was new. That probably had more to do with the malnourishment that was also making ribs (which used to be hidden inside, where they belonged) press out against the flesh of his torso. Ribs that were sharp and painful when he lay on his stomach. Ugly yellow bruises developed over the curve of them when he was manhandled. Ribs that sometimes felt as if they might cut up all his internal organs like a blade.

Burning water that left his hands red and stinging could not heal bruises, but it would help the cold, as well as the layers of endless filth. He needed to wash his hands.

Professor Wyler was saying something, and Lance felt bad for not listening. He tried to tune in; he could multitask.

"That's right, Leo, very good! See? I told your mother you could handle Advanced Physics. Aren't you glad you moved up?" Wyler praised a sub's correct answer, smiling proudly at his student.

The sub - _Leo_ , Lance knew all about Leo - blushed furiously and averted his eyes to the electronic notepad in front of him. A few Doms laughed. One leaned over to elbow Leo's ribs good-naturedly, teasing him about being _hot for teacher_. Leo only rolled his eyes.

_Why can't they be friendly to me like that? Why are they so awful to me, and so nice to him? What did I do?_

Probably because Leo was a sweet, obedient, good boy who knew how to say no in a calm and firm way. Lance had overheard it before, a respectful _thank you for the offer, I'm flattered, but I'm not looking for a Dom just yet._

Leo wasn't a whore like Lance was. Leo declined flings and kept himself pure, not allowing anyone to deflower him in his youth. He was a good sub, and he made it clear that he saw Doms as the authority-figures-by-nature that they were, even as he turned them down.

That was why the Doms respected Leo back, Lance knew. That was why they accepted his no and thanked him for his time. That was why they held doors open for Leo and handed out compliments that made him blush, but ceased pursuit upon request.

He rejected them with such grace, but also with an air of finality. Doms even went so far as to befriend Leo after being denied sex or romance. They wanted to keep him safe and make him smile, even though he wasn't theirs and didn't want to be. He was everything good that a sub should be.

Leo was everything that Lance was not. And that was why Leo was safe.

Lance swallowed roughly and locked his gaze on Wyler's hand moving across the glowboard.

He really did need to start paying more attention. He had to try and regain that unquenchable thirst he used to have for wanting to know exactly how every gear in the world turned.

Mostly because Physics was his worst class, and he needed to keep his grades up if he wanted to stay in school. Without a scholarship, he was toast. His parents wouldn't dish out for a fifty thousand dollar tuition per semester. They were only paying half of that for Veronica's college courses.

There was no way in hell they'd spend that kind of money on the baby of the family, their only sub child, the one who faded into the background because he was an accident and they'd never really wanted him, anyway. It was up to him to keep his grades up if he wanted to stay.

He also wanted to do well in Physics because he happened to know Wyler was the Dom parent of Keith Kogane.

Lance didn't like Kogane. He really didn't. But he still didn't want the guy to hear anything negative about him from his father over the dinner table. It was weird, thinking that this kind, funny teacher could have raised _Keith_ of all people. He wondered if the sub parent was just as nice.

At the same time, it wasn't all that weird.

Kogane had a rough exterior that made all the other Doms in school steer clear, muttering _freak, he's crazy, went to town on Griffin again for no reason._ But Lance suspected Keith had a much softer spirit than most Doms did. He wasn't as badass as he wanted everyone to think he was. He _couldn't_ be, because he had yet to demand anything of Lance. He was one of the few Doms in the Garrison who hadn't. Everyone else wanted to use Lance in some capacity or another.

Some of the Doms who approached him didn't even want sex, or at least didn't want to go all the way.

Some of them didn't force their way into his dorm to hurt him in any and every way possible on the bed that was meant for peace and rest. Lance could count on both hands the number of people who had gone that far, and still have a few fingers leftover.

The majority wanted blowjobs, or his hand down their pants in a bathroom stall. A lot just wanted to look at him, naked, admire his now constantly bruised and too-skinny body, maybe take a few pictures.

Some Doms were uncharacteristically shy when they approached him, asking if they could just... _look_. Just to see what a naked sub looked like in person. Awkward, virgin Doms, some a good three years younger than him with big eyes and baby faces. They thought he was doing all this of his own accord. Which wasn't really their fault, because Lance never corrected them.

Every now and then, a Dom just wanted to kiss him.

The kissers would press him firmly against a wall and shove their tongues into his mouth. Which wasn't so bad in comparison, even though he still didn't want it.

( _But don't you? You never push them away. Doesn't that mean you want it?_ )

It was especially easier to stomach when they told him things like _you're a good kisser_ or _your lips are soft_ or even _you're a good sub, you know that? A good boy._

He didn't want their lips or hands on him. But the primal sub inside him felt fuzzy and warm at being called _good_. He liked the praise.

Lance was disgusting. He was sick. He was so, so sick.

"Alright, who wants to give this one a shot?" Wyler asked. He skipped over all the raised hands and picked a girl only half-jokingly hiding behind her notepad. She groaned. "Come on, now. You can do it. If Leo's progress has taught us anything, it's that we all have more potential than we realize."

Did _he_ have potential, though? Did Lance have anything left in his empty shell of a body to give? Did he even have a soul, or had it been ripped out of him and shredded along with everything else?

Wyler caught Lance's eye as he scanned his class to see who was listening to the girl's stuttered answer. The teacher's face was unreadable for a moment when their gazes met. Lance flinched.

But then the Professor just gave him an encouraging smile, and gestured vaguely to the switched-off screen of his notepad.

Lance's hands (dry, need to be washed, need hot, hot, burning water and suds) shook as he tried to type the formula. He already knew it - he'd been in AP classes back in his Miami public school, too - but he'd take any excuse to not look at the Professor.

He couldn't keep his own monstrous thoughts at bay for long.

He was such a _whore_ for thinking that forced make-out sessions maybe weren't all that bad. But they made him want to pretend this was somebody he loved, who loved him, and get lost in a delusion of romance for a moment.

"It's alright, Rena! You did your best, and that's what matters. Thank you for trying."

Except the fantasy part never lasted. Because, after a moment, being pressed against the wall started to remind him of being pressed into a mattress, and the tongue in his mouth was a sick rendition of mouths roaming other places on his body.

"Did everyone get the formula down? Check your notes. I'll give you a minute before I erase it."

And the cold reality of it would strike through his chest, then, cut through the maladaptive daydreams and bring his disassociating soul back into his body. He didn't want this, didn't want them, didn't even _know_ them, and suddenly the kisses were just as bad as everything else was and _somebody please, please help._

Most of those Doms would pull away from him, then, staring in confusion when his breath grew harsh and tears began to fall.

They ripped their hands off of him like his skin burned when he choked out _I don't want to, please stop_. They stepped back slowly, as if trying not to frighten a wounded animal. They waited for him to catch his breath and tell them _yes I'm fine I'm okay now thanks I'm fine_ before they scurried away, still mumbling apologies. _I didn't know, I thought you...sorry, man, sorry._

It was funny, Lance thought, that they had to _know_ , and they did nothing, told no one. Sure, teenagers weren't always so bright - but this was a school built specifically for bright kids.

Did a sub having a panic attack over a simple kiss, the same sub who had a reputation as the easiest fuck around, really not raise any red flags? Didn't Doms have instincts about the safety and health of subs? Couldn't they sense these things?

Why wasn't anybody _helping him?_

(You don't deserve help, why do you need help, you want it, you said it yourself you like it when they kiss you, even turned you bi, you slut, you even like the boys, didn't your father teach you anything, don't let boys kiss you that's disgusting you whore are you that desperate for sex you sick disgusting disgusting disgusting -)

"I need to go to the bathroom."

The words were out of Lance's mouth before he could stop them. His voice cracked. Professor Wyler paused mid-sentence and capped the glowmarker in his hand, frowning in disapproval.

Lance realized, to his own horror, that he'd just interrupted a Dom. 

"Are you not feeling well, Mr. McClain?" Wyler asked, and thank God, he didn't sound angry. "This is a rather important lesson, and there's only twenty minutes left in the period. Any... _extra curricular activities_ can wait. But if it's an emergency, please, be my guest."

Students slapped hands over their own mouths, trying to hide their laughter. They all knew exactly what _extra curricular activities_ meant in reference to Lance McClain. Of course they knew. They were the directors of those activities, and Lance was just their universal prop.

Wyler winced. Lance thought he looked embarrassed for a second, like he hadn't meant for the words in his head to escape his mouth. Then it was gone, and he was the stoic teacher again.

He knew that it was essentially permission he'd just been given. He could get up and take that hall pass and say it really was an emergency and that he felt sick. Except it was so _difficult_ to lie to a Dom.

Though it wouldn't technically be a lie. He did feel sick. And it was an emergency. Just not the kind Wyler was thinking of.

It was the kind of emergency where if he didn't wash this phantom feeling of a mean, ugly boy's cum and the wetness of a moaning girl's arousal off his hands _right now right now right now_ until his hands hurt from scrubbing, he was probably going to have a panic attack in front of the entire class. And that was five thousand times worse than interrupting the lesson.

He couldn't do it. Wyler's disapproval left a sick taste in his mouth. Tears blurred his vision, and he blinked them away. He didn't want to disappoint a teacher who gave him encouraging smiles and believed he actually had potential.

Lance shook his head. His body shook, too, and he wondered if Wyler could see that all the way from the front.

"No, sir," he said. "It's fine. I can wait. I'm...very sorry, sir. Sorry."

The apology sounded more desperate than he'd intended. Wyler frowned deeper.

"That's really alright, Mr. McClain," he said way too nicely, gently. Lance allowed himself to mentally rest for a moment in the kind of soothing, paternal Domhood he'd never felt from his own father. The room was silent, tense, awkward. Everyone was _staring_ at him. "You don't have to apologize. I understand. Perhaps you should go see the nurse after class if you aren't feeling like yourself."

Of course he didn't feel like himself. But he didn't need the nurse. What could the nurse do? What could anyone do?

Only death could help him at this point, Lance had to admit now, after weeks of denial. Only death could make this _stop stop stop._

"Yes, sir. I'll...I'll do that. Thank you."

"Of course, Mr. McClain. I do hope you feel better. We wouldn't want you to miss the test tomorrow."

Would he still be alive for the test tomorrow?

His hands itched. He needed to _wash his hands._

"I won't miss the test, Professor."

"Glad to hear it. Now, on we go - who can tell me why the..."

The sounds around him faded. Lance's ears rang. He kept his breath intentionally deep and even, staving off panic the way the internet had taught him.

_(Death will make it stop, you pathetic bitch, death will make it stop stop stop.)_

It would.


	8. i feel the past i share the bruise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She knew. She knew he didn't want it. She knew all along.
> 
> She just didn't care.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> things are heating up and not in the good way. my poor lancey-lance
> 
> if you'd like to see notes and updates on the story between chapters, please go to my tumblr blog, langst-wins, and filter with the tag "happy little pill fic"! you can also send an anon or public ask if you have a question about hlp or anything else
> 
> please leave a comment with your thoughts! enjoy!

Lance was out the door like a shot the second the bell rang.

His hands were _dirty_. He needed to burn them in the hottest water a bathroom sink could offer. He needed to scrape his nails over all the hidden grime stuck in his pores, he thought, heart racing as he power-walked his way through the crowd.

He didn't get far.

A small hand snatched his elbow. The grip was not strong enough to truly hold him, but he stopped anyways. Ice-cold fear shot through his veins. He knew those hands.

Sure enough, the Dom girl was leaning against the wall, a falsely sweet smile on her face. The same girl who'd left him used, dirty, and alone only two nights before. 

Lance remembered thinking on his first day what a pretty Cuban girl she was, how happy his father would be if he was claimed by such a gorgeous Dom who shared their family's origins.

But now, she was so inexplicably ugly to him. Because now he knew her soul.

" _Hey_ , Lancey-Lance!" She purred. She walked her fingers from his elbow up his arm. The purple bruise she'd left just below his right shoulder itched under the sleeve. "You didn't call me yesterday, baby...I left my number under your pillow, didn't you see it?"

Lance had, in fact, not seen the number supposedly left beneath his pillow. He hadn't slept at all the night she raped him, and last night, he'd managed to sleep a few fitful hours on the floor.

"I...I didn't," Lance whispered. "I'm sorry, I didn't s-see it. Sorry."

The girl pouted, blinking big brown eyes up at him. Her curls bounced when she tilted her head. Lance had another, fleeting thought of her beauty, and hated himself for it. His sub instincts wanted to change that pout into a smile. He wanted to please her.

The urge was gone as soon as it had arrived.

No. He didn't want to please her. He wanted to rip her hands off of him, shove her hard into the wall, leave her with at least a small portion of the purple and yellow markings she'd left him.

But he didn't.

"What did I tell you to call me?" She asked lowly.

"Ma'am," Lance said, his heart skipping a beat. God, what a stupid, stupid mistake. "I'm sorry...Ma'am. I didn't find your number, I..."

"You what, pretty boy?"

How would she take this? Would she be turned on by it? Would it inspire her into a repeat performance? Lance decided, right then and there, that he was definitely not going to be waking up in the morning if it did. He couldn't take it anymore, never again. He wouldn't live with another boulder pressing down on his back.

"I haven't changed the sheets," Lance said, voice cracking. "Haven't, uh, really touched the bed."

"Spending the night with  _other_ Doms?" The girl mistakenly assumed. "Well. I can't blame them, I guess. You're the easiest fuck in school. Everyone knows it, especially after those  _delicious_ videos."

The world stopped turning. His lungs didn't work for a long moment. Did she...were there _seriously_...?

She grinned. It was wicked, the evil partially disguised behind pearly white teeth and a burgundy lipstick.

"There are videos," Lance whispered, unable to tear his eyes away from her. It wasn't a question. Lance looked at her face and he  _knew._

His horror must have been evident, because she laughed.

"Of course there are, baby boy!  _I_ even made one, after I put you in subspace. You came again, did you know that? You loved it."

_You didn't put me in subspace, I hyperventilated, I disassociated, I blacked out, I was having a mental fucking breakdown._ "Oh."

"Mmhm. Everyone has to know what a good boy you are, right?" Her hands carded through his hair gently, as if they were lovers. There was a mean sparkle in her eyes.

She _knew_. She knew he didn't want it. She knew all along.

She just didn't care.

Her eyes broke contact with his, looking down the hall over his shoulder as a name was called. "Darcy!"

As if his day couldn't get any worse, Lance couldn't help but choke on a sob when he turned his head to find Keith Kogane, standing in the doorway of his father's classroom, calling for this demonic girl.

Kogane didn't sound upset or angry at her. He didn't even realize what was happening, probably. He was only trying to get her attention. He was wearing a faint, hesitant, almost forced smile on his face, and his gaze flickered ever so briefly to Lance before landing back on _Darcy_.

Did they...

Was he  _friends_ with her? With this wicked, evil, horrible monster? He had to be. Why else would he call her name so casually?

"Ada - Professor Wyler wants to see you!" Keith said, the longest sentence Lance had ever heard from him. "You forgot to get your phone back after class this morning!"

"Oh!" Darcy cried happily, beaming at him. "Sure! Thanks, Keith!"

Kogane nodded in acknowledgment. His gaze lingered on Lance for a moment before he disappeared inside the classroom.

Darcy pressed a kiss to his cheek, then got on the tips of her toes to whisper sultry and low in his ear, "Find that number and call me, Lancey-Lance, or I'll have to come looking for you again. You wouldn't want that, would you?"

Lance's voice was barely audible when he responded. He was surprised she could make out the words. "No, Ma'am."

"Good boy." She placed her feet back flat on the floor, patted his cheek, and winked before practically bouncing to Wyler's room. To  _Keith._

Lance spent the entirety of the last period in a bathroom stall, sobbing and dry-heaving over the toilet bowl for what felt like forever. When the nausea passed, he rested his head against the cool tile floor, silent and still, his mind made up.

Tonight. This was it.

Never again.


	9. you're hearing music, but it's not your song

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There were videos, and the proof was playing on Lance's phone, sitting on the floor in front of him as he tried to muffle loud, ugly sobs with a fist pressed between his teeth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *cough*
> 
> plz don't kill me i'm sorry

There were videos.

There were videos, and the proof was playing on Lance's phone, sitting on the floor in front of him as he tried to muffle loud, ugly sobs with a fist pressed between his teeth.

Darcy wasn't kidding. Seven videos, a series, cataloging every time Lance had been raped in his own bed over the past three weeks. The first one, posted under the title _teen sub whore likes it rough_ , must have been what inspired all those other Doms to come looking for him.

That first Dom boy, whose name Lance couldn't even fucking remember, had set this train rolling down the tracks. He'd likely caused the following six encounters by posting this.

Was this how everyone knew? Lance had been foolish enough to believe it was all passed along in gossip, spreading like a disease until the entire school caught on.

But that wasn't how it had happened at all. There were videos, capturing his shame, public on the internet for the entire planet to see.

Oh, God. What if his family saw them? Oh, _God_ , he couldn't breathe. He couldn't _breathe_.

Lance stumbled to his feet, leaving the video playing, and opened an almost empty top dresser drawer. His hand fumbled for a moment before wrapping tight around the object of his interest.

The small but sharp flip-top knife Veronica had gifted him before he left, "for protection."

God, the irony.

He pressed the tip of the blade to his wrist once, then pulled it away without leaving a mark.

Then twice. Hesitant, shaking fingers pressed faintly, then lifted, leaving a brief indent but no cut.

Thrice -

Lance turned and hurled the blade against the wall, howling in fury, tears still streaming down his reddened face. He couldn't do it, he _couldn't fucking do it_ , he should have known. He was too weak. He was always so weak.

He would just have to wait until a Dom with a choking kink took things too far in the heat of the moment, or until the little fat remaining on his skeletal frame melted away and his heart gave out. Because he couldn't do it himself.

Lance was too weak to prevent the torture, and too weak to end his own life. He couldn't do _anything_ right.

He slept on the floor again. The videos played on loop until his phone's battery died sometime in the night, and he fell asleep to the sounds. Lance curled into himself and cried, praying that the strength to retrieve the blade and finish the job would find him.

It never did. He fell asleep without meaning to, his exhausted and neglected body finally catching up.

Lance didn't want to wake up anymore. He didn't want to see another day, feel the sun or hear the birds chirping ever again. He didn't _want_ it, he didn't want any of this.

But he was learning the hard way that what he did and didn't want was of no importance.

Lance woke up to another beautiful morning, eyes dry and heart empty, and begrudgingly lived.


	10. how did you get here under my skin?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy's hand was soft in the boy's hair, but her fingers were white from the pressure exerted where she gripped his arm. McClain's body language was not that which suggested comfort. He was stiff, hands clenched into fists, unmoving. He looked paralyzed. He looked scared.
> 
> Keith's heart hammered frantically in his chest. Something was wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys!
> 
> so for those of you who didn't see the new updating schedule I posted on tumblr - basically i'm now going to be posting two chapters a day on weekdays and three chapters a day on weekends. this is for two reasons: I want to post the Christmas chapter coming up way down the road on actual Christmas morning, and i'd also like to finish the story on new years eve because I already have a couple ideas for multi-chaptered sequels for this in mind, and i'd like to get to those in the new year. I just wanted to let you guys know about all this so you wouldn't be caught off guard if you missed a few days and came back to find that like 10 new chapters were posted while you were gone.
> 
> and yes, that means you will be getting two more chapters later today, since it's a weekend.
> 
> enjoy!

"Hey, Keith?"

"Hmm."

"Would you do me a favor? See if you can find your buddy Darcy? She left her phone behind this morning."

Keith sighed, kicking off the wall where he was leaning behind his father's desk. "She's not my _buddy_."

"Really?" Adam looked at him in surprise, hand hovering above the notepad he'd been typing on. "But you brought her to the house last year."

"I _told_ you, we were working on a project," Keith said. He took the graviphone Adam pulled out of his desk drawer, but held it at arm's length. Darcy was annoying and obnoxious. He didn't want her nasty phone germs all over his clothes. "You just weren't listening. I bet Shiro remembered."

Adam gave him an unimpressed look. "Cut the attitude, please. You're way too old for that." He removed his glasses to rub briefly at his temples, then placed them back on his nose. "Find Darcy, and hurry back. I won't mark you absent."

Something about Adam's demeanor felt slightly cold, and Keith realized with a pang of guilt that Shiro must have told him about the latest escape attempt. Adam was probably feeling hurt. He'd never quite understood why Keith wanted to leave so badly. Shiro kind of did, but not really, not entirely. They both always took it so personally.

He didn't know how to explain that he wasn't running from _them_ without making it sound like a cheesy break-up line - _it's not you, it's me_. That was exactly the truth, though. It wasn't them. They were wonderful. It had always been him.

There was an ever-widening rift between his parents and himself, and Keith felt absolutely powerless to stop it.

Students were beginning to trickle in for the start of the last period, so Keith fought the urge he felt to lash out at Adam (his only response to emotional pain, apparently.) He just left, pushing maybe a little too rudely past a hand-holding couple walking in the door.

Luckily, he didn't have to go far to find Darcy. She was already standing in the hall, not far from Adam's room, hand tangled in a lanky boy's hair and -

Wait.

_McClain?_

Keith blinked in shock, stopping short in the center of the hall, staring.

Wasn't...wasn't Darcy a Dom? This picture didn't make any sense. The two had to be close friends, or related, or something. Keith had already noticed the guy was looking pretty down lately. Maybe he was pouring his heart out, weaving his sob story for her.

Keith knew that wasn't it, though. There was a dreadful feeling in the pit of his stomach that told him otherwise.

Darcy's hand was soft in the boy's hair, but her fingers were white from the pressure exerted where she gripped his arm. McClain's body language was not that which suggested comfort. He was stiff, hands clenched into fists, unmoving. He looked paralyzed. He looked scared.

Keith's heart hammered frantically in his chest. Something was wrong.

A group of kids brushed roughly past Keith, scoffing to each other about his standstill in the midst of moving foot traffic. Keith backed up a few feet into the doorway of the classroom, holding the phone out of sight.

"Darcy!" He called over the sea of students.

Darcy glanced over McClain's shoulder and flashed him a wide grin. Keith forced the barest of smiles in response.

McClain turned, too, and Keith's breath caught at the look on his face. Eyebrows drawn together, eyes wide and panicked, looking about two seconds away from crying - he was a mess. He wasn't himself. And Keith knew, somehow, that it was Darcy's fault.

Something was very, very,  _very_ wrong. Keith hated it. He needed it to stop immediately. He needed Lance - no, _McClain_ \- to stop looking like he was scared for his very life. That wasn't right. That wasn't okay.

He didn't want Lance - McClain, _McClain_ , damn it - to be scared. He loathed that look on his face so much. It _hurt._

Why did that hurt?

"Ada - Professor Wyler wants to see you!" Keith said, barely catching his slip-up in time. "You forgot to get your phone back after class this morning!"

"Oh! Sure!" Darcy called back. "Thanks, Keith!"

But she remained glued to the other Dom, hands holding him in place. Staring at Keith. Waiting for him to leave.

Every little molecule of his being _screamed_ at the thought of leaving the two of them alone, even if they weren't really alone in the crowded hall. But he didn't want to start anything with Darcy right now. She loved to pick fights, and Keith had a hard time not jumping into them.

So he left, sparing one last glance at Lance - McClain - oh, fuck, just forget it, _Lance_ , then - and feeling his pulse beat in his throat when wide, teary eyes locked onto his.

Keith slid the phone onto the edge of Adam's desk. Adam gave him a quizzical look. Keith made a not-now sort of gesture, waving him off, and slunk over to the empty seat closest to the door, feeling Adam's eyes on him all the while.

This wasn't something he could explain in words. Keith hardly understood it himself. He just wanted Darcy to come in here and get the phone herself. He wanted to see her face, her hands.

Her rude, invasive hands. Why were her hands all over Lance, holding him too tight, hurting him? What gave her the right to touch him like that? To put that sad and terrified look on his face?

And why the fuck did it make him so _angry?_

Darcy bounced in, all grins and innocence, and took the phone off of Adam's desk. "Thanks, Professor Wyler!"

Adam offered her a tentative smile. His gaze flickered between her and Keith. Darcy didn't seem to notice. "Uh...yes. Of course. You're very welcome. Get yourself to class now, please."

Keith kept his head down the whole period, taking notes and avoiding Adam's eyes until his father finally gave up asking those burning, wordless questions.

Keith was silent on the drive home, too, even going so far as to turn the radio on, which he never did. He feared Adam would turn it off at some point and demand answers while Keith was in a moving vehicle and unable to evade him. Adam never did. The drive was short and quiet.

Keith saw his fathers share a concerned glance with one another out of the corner of his eye when he declined dinner, curled up on his side on the couch. His eyes gazed sightlessly at the same screen of notes he'd been staring at for fifteen minutes. And then, in the shittiest timing ever, there was a tickle in his throat. Keith release a single, mild cough.

They were on him in an instant, hands brushing his hair back from his forehead to check for fever, asking him if he felt okay, if he'd eaten something that tasted off, did he feel nauseated at all?

"I'm not sick," Keith snapped, heaving himself off the couch and out of their reach. He didn't spare a glance back as his bare feet pounded up the stairs louder than necessary. "Just leave me _alone_."

In his room, Keith did not have to bother with the pretense of studying. He stared at the ceiling and thought and feared and _worried_. An unwarranted anger vied for his attention, and he was maybe kind of lying when he told his parents he felt fine, because his stomach was actually churning.

The door was cautiously cracked open at some point. It could have been twenty minutes or two hours later; Keith was none the wiser. He closed his eyes and pretended to sleep, though, hoping the sight of him at rest would ease Shiro and Adam's minds. He did feel bad for worrying them.

Soft footsteps moved around the room. The light was turned off. Moments later, a blanket was draped over him.

A warm hand swept over his forehead in a familiar gesture, then fell to cradle his face, and a kiss was pressed to his forehead. It should have made Keith feel like a small child rather than the near adult he was, but it didn't. It never did.

He carried touch starvation with him from his actual childhood, years upon years of loneliness, abuse, and neglect from the foster homes that came before. Shiro and Adam knew this. They had no qualms treating him a bit childishly in their affections. Keith didn't mind, either. Sometimes he needed it.

He needed it that night. The gesture of love would have brought tears to his eyes had they been open.

"Feel better, buddy," Shiro's voice whispered somewhere close to his face, a thumb stroking his cheekbone. "We love you so much."

He'd been so rude to them lately, so harsh, so ungrateful. He knew he had. And yet, here Shiro was, concerned and affectionate, loving him anyways. That was -  _so_ nice. Entirely undeserved. But nice.

It was weird to hear the words _love you_ without echoing them. Keith kept his mouth and eyes closed, though. Shiro just sat for a minute, hand cradling his face, thumb sweeping lightly over his closed eyelid and brow. Finally, Shiro's weight shifted off the bed and the door creaked until it clicked shut.

Keith had done nothing to deserve those two. He found it nearly impossible to respond to their love and their worry for his wellbeing without closing up and becoming defensive. It was so out of his comfort zone to be taken care of, to have people casually share that they wanted him to be safe and healthy and happy, like that was something Keith should just _expect_ from the adults in his life. He could never repay them for everything they'd done.

It didn't matter. They understood his unusual reactions and the baggage that caused them. They knew the hell he'd been through, right down to the smallest details, and they knew how fucked up he was. They'd adopted him anyway, loved him despite his flaws outnumbering his strengths. Unconditionally.

Keith wondered if they would change their minds when he turned eighteen and abandoned them.

It took him what felt like hours to actually fall asleep. When he finally did, it was to the sound of hushed voices murmuring in the kitchen below, a sink running, and dishes clinking. The background hum of weekday domesticity might as well have been a lullaby.

His inner turmoil had not eased when he woke in the morning. Actually, he felt significantly worse.

Keith was a man of action. He couldn't just let that feeling sit there inside of him, eating him up, making him get all emotional and sentimental and shit. He had to _do_ something.

And there was really only one thing he  _could_ do. It was something he'd never done before, and had never wanted to.

He had to talk to McClain. No - _Lance_.

He had to talk to Lance.


	11. the words you served destroyed my planet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance stared at him for a long moment, then his lips twisted upward into a humorless smile. He leaned back, slumping in the chair, looking up at the ceiling. A dry laugh fell from his open mouth. "Wow. This is just....wow."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so I was literally bouncing in my seat as I wrote this because this is the first real interaction between them and it was so much fucking fun to write. I hope you guys enjoy it as much as I did!

"What was that with Darcy What's-Her-Face yesterday?"

Lance flinched, his entire body tensing. He didn't look up from the table even when Keith rapped his knuckles impatiently on the surface.

"McClain!" He snapped. "I'm talking to you. Why the fuck was she digging her claws into you like that?"

"Why do you care?" Lance asked, voice shaking. Keith thought the boy's hands might have been moving with fine tremors, too, but it was hard to tell.

Other students were beginning to trickle one by one into the classroom. They shot the duo odd looks. Keith didn't want to draw any attention to himself, but this was the only class he and Lance had together, and they didn't exactly have each other's phone numbers.

So he pulled out the second chair placed at the table, and sat.

Lance stared at him in shock, mouth open, trying and failing to form words. Keith rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, I know you like to sit alone," he sighed. "I'm sitting here today. You can get over it. Now, answer my question."

Lance's breath stuttered. That was so weird. God, what was this dude's damage?

"She was just - talking to me, about something," Lance whispered toward his hands where they rested on the table. "Don't worry about it."

"Oh, wow. That explains  _so_ much."

"You didn't answer  _my_ question. Why do you care?"

_I don't fucking know. I just do. Are you okay?_ "I don't. I'm just curious."

Lance didn't seem to have a response to that. At least, not at first.

"I don't actually like to sit alone," he said finally.

Keith blinked. "Huh?"

"You said you know I like sitting alone. I don't like it. I hate it."

"Then why the hell do you do it?"

"Because nobody will sit with me."

Keith shifted awkwardly, looking away from the other teenager. Well, now he just felt like a huge fucking dick. But at the same time, he couldn't find it in him to blame their classmates.

"I mean, are you surprised?" He asked, with some hesitation. "You...can be pretty obnoxious, when you want to be."

Lance's face hardened, but not in the angry way Keith was expecting. His eyebrows screwed up and his lips curled into a grimace, like he was trying not to cry.

Oh, God, shit, he fucking _sucked_ at this. Was he really out here making depressed kids _cry?_ Fuck. Shiro and Adam were going to kill him. Shit, shit, shit.

"Whoa, hey," Keith said in a bit of a panic, hand hovering over Lance's shoulder for a minute before falling back to his own side. "That wasn't - jeez, you don't have to _cry_."

"I'm not crying," Lance whispered, eyes fluttering closed. Sure, he wasn't exactly in tears, but he sounded like he was pretty damn close. "Just...go to your own seat, please? It's fine. Don't worry about it."

"No, okay? It's not fine," Keith snapped. He somehow made Lance flinch again for the second time in under four minutes. Which was...strange. "I want to know why you were getting all handsy with another Dom. That's _weird_. Are you guys friends or something?"

Lance's eyes flew open. He met Keith's gaze for the first time in the entire conversation, eyes wide with disbelief. _"What?"_

"Um, yeah." Keith tapped his toes rapidly against the leg of the table, a nervous tic. "Did you not know Darcy's a Dom? It's pretty obvious, honestly. I thought you were supposed to be smart."

Lance stared at him for a long moment, then his lips twisted upward into a humorless smile. He leaned back, slumping in the chair, looking up at the ceiling. A dry laugh fell from his open mouth. "Wow. This is just.... _wow_."

Keith started to growl in pure frustration, but stopped himself short when Lance's eyes closed again and his body tensed.

"What's _just wow?"_ He asked, flicking Lance impatiently on the arm. "I'm _serious,_ this isn't funny. I want to know."

"It is funny, actually." Lance's voice had once again dipped into a whisper. He blinked up at the ceiling, then brought his head back down to glare at the blank glowboard. His eyes started to grow red and wet, and Keith watched him blink them rapidly. "This is really, really funny."

"What's funny about you flirting with another Dom? What, did you already go through all the subs in school? Got bored with them?"

Lance locked eyes with him, lips pursed in a tight line.

"I _am_ a sub."


	12. there's a sickness living inside me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It all made sense now. Lance's demeanor as of late, the way he seemed to be shrinking into himself, trying to make himself disappear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *casually sips tea*

Keith's face burned. His jaw dropped wide open. He knew he looked an idiot. He couldn't fucking help it.

"No, you aren't," he said after a moment, shaking his head in a dazed kind of way. Lance just looked at him, lips still pressed in a thin line, a single eyebrow quirked upward. His expression was unreadable. "No. You _aren't_. Since when are you a fucking _sub_ , what the _fuck?"_

"Um, well, since I was a fetus, technically," Lance mumbled, glancing self-conciously over his shoulders. Keith realized with a start that people were openly staring at them now. He'd honestly forgotten anybody else was in the room. "Can you keep your voice down?"

"No, I mean..." Keith scoffed, sitting back and rubbing a hand down his face. "You've always just... _let_ everyone think you're a Dom. Why?"

Lance stared down at his feet, arms crossed over his chest. He took his bottom lip into his mouth and Keith averted his eyes, trying not to think about how fucking _nice_ that looked because this really wasn't a good time, brain, thanks.

Then, without any warning whatsoever, a single tear tumbled past the sub's - the _sub's_ \- bottom left lashes. Gravity pulled it downward, and it soaked into Lance's too-baggy pants instead of rolling down his face.

Shit. What were you supposed to do when a sub cried? He'd never seen Shiro cry and they didn't exactly cover this shit in sex ed.

"Okay, don't..." Keith _did_ let his hand fall on Lance's shoulder this time. Lance gasped and tried to shift away from him. Keith did the only thing he could think to do, something Adam or Shiro would have done - he rubbed firm circles with his thumb over the curve where Lance's shoulder met his bicep. Was that weird? That had to be weird. Lance stopped wiggling, though, relaxing beneath Keith's hand. "Don't _cry_ , it's fine, okay? It's really fine. I don't...care if you're a sub."

And if that wasn't the biggest fucking lie he'd uttered in years.

Because Keith did care that Lance was a sub. He cared so, so much.

It all made sense now. Lance's demeanor as of late, the way he seemed to be shrinking into himself, trying to make himself disappear.

The burning _rage_ Keith had felt when Darcy put her hands on him like _that._ The overwhelming urge he'd been having to check on Lance, to make sure he was doing alright. The worry so strong it made him feel sick.

The way he so desperately longed to hold Lance in his arms, now, to wipe that goddamn tear away and say something, _anything_ to make him laugh or at least just smile a little. The way he wanted to keep Lance safe, and feed him as much food as he could stuff into him because he'd been losing far too much weight lately. The way Keith wanted to...

The way he wanted to kiss him.

Oh, _fuck._


	13. you can spare me all your sympathy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith was watching him, a frown on his face, thumb still rubbing Lance's shoulder. And it was crazy, really, how Lance didn't mind that. Actually kind of liked it, even. The gesture was soft and soothing and kind and just...everything he wouldn't have expected from Keith Kogane.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> back to lancey-lance's pov!

"I was just trying to...be someone else, I guess," Lance said lamely, once he was sure no more tears were going to fall. "People don't take subs seriously. Not here. Not anywhere. You know they don't."

Lance wiped the remaining wetness from his lashes with a fingertip, sniffling. He spared a glance at Keith out of the corner of his eye.

Keith was watching him, a frown on his face, thumb still rubbing Lance's shoulder. And it was crazy, really, how Lance didn't mind that. Actually kind of liked it, even. The gesture was soft and soothing and kind and just...everything he _wouldn't_ have expected from Keith Kogane.

Keith, who was somehow so out of the social loop that he hadn't even known Lance was a sub.

Did that mean he hadn't seen the videos? Lance hoped he hadn't. This was the first person who had held a real conversation with him in so long. He didn't want Keith to know pornos had been made of him against his will.

He didn't want Keith to know he was a slut.

"Sometimes they don't," Keith said slowly. His hand shifted from Lance's shoulder to his back, a comforting pressure between his shoulder blades. "And that's not right. But that doesn't mean you should just - hide who you are. If people don't like it, too fucking bad. They can get over it."

Lance nodded dumbly. He took a deep, shuddering breath.

"Sorry," he said. "For, you know. Lying to you. That's not cool. I just -"

The bell rang. Proffessor Campbell's high heels clicked into the room right on time, just as usual. Students who had been casually sitting on tabletops and making small talk scrambled to find their seats.

Keith's hand fell from Lance's back and he shifted in his seat to face forward. Lance had to bite back a whine of disapproval at the loss. He just stared at Keith instead, eyes wide. Was that it, then? They were just...done talking?

The Professor turned to begin writing something on the glowboard about _safety first,_ and Keith took the opportunity to lean a mere few inches away from Lance's ear and speak under his breath. "Sit with me at lunch. You said you don't like sitting alone, right?"

Oh, God. Lance felt tears welling up again, and that was so stupid. Was he really going to cry over this?

But nobody had offered to sit with him before, for anything, ever. And here was this Dom, who didn't want sex or to kiss him or anything else - but he wanted to _give_ Lance something. A chance, for once, to not be alone. He wanted to sit with Lance. Publicly. Where people could see them. Something that would temporarily cure the constant undercurrent of loneliness he felt all the way down to his soul.

He hoped Keith didn't get too attached. He wasn't planning on sticking around much longer.

Lance gulped and gave Keith a shaky nod, whispering back hoarsely. "Okay."

Keith smiled a little. A real smile, soft and curved on only one side, nothing like the fake thing he'd flashed at Darcy the day before.

Lance spent the entire period trying probably way too hard to think about the proper headgear pieces for MFE pilots, and not the way those softly curved lips would feel pressed against his own.

_(You want to kiss every Dom you see now? What a slut, slut, slut.)_


	14. (if it hurts and you can't take no more) lay it all on me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith had just bought him an entire damn meal, without hesitation, as soon as he realized Lance couldn't buy it himself. Like he actually thought it was important to not let him go hungry.
> 
> Like Lance was, himself, important.
> 
> So, yeah. He kind of cried a little. Sue him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> real quick note on their personalities here: i know they're ooc right now. they will become closer to their canon personalities in time. lance needs to heal before he can be his loud playful self again, and keith needs to learn how to let his walls down and open up to somebody so he can take off this sharp, edgy, "I'm a badass" mask.
> 
> this would have all been revealed in time anyways, but i didnt want y'all to read through the first half of the story thinking they're just ooc and that's the way its gonna stay. they'll become more like the klance we know and love in time. patience yields focus!
> 
> on another note completely: this is easily my FAVORITE chapter I've written so far. and that's including the chapters I've written ahead that arent up yet. like not to toot my own horn but....I L O V E this one so much???? these boys are my favorite people, bless
> 
> please enjoy!

"Why are you not getting anything?"

The tips of Lance's ears grew warm with a blush. He felt an inexplicable tug toward the truth, for some reason; an urgent need to _not_ lie to Keith.

So he didn't.

"My dad just...forgets...to send me money, sometimes. He's busy. It's fine. I'm not hungry."

Anger flashed through Keith's eyes, and he quickly averted them. Lance watched the sharp edge of the Dom's jaw move, teeth grinding together behind closed lips. Two servings of mixed fruit were dropped promptly onto Keith's tray.

Two servings of everything, actually. He backtracked his way through the lunch line, reaching rudely over other students' shoulders to grab second helpings of the things he'd already picked up. Lance hovered empty-handed and awkward behind him.

"You don't have to..." Lance started, then trailed off when Keith shot him a mild look.

When Keith finally spoke, it was in a forced monotone. A forced calm. "Does your father realize you're underweight and malnourished because he keeps _forgetting?"_

"I don't know," Lance whispered. His vision blurred, and he swallowed hard around a lump in his throat. "I...we don't talk. I really don't know."

Keith looked at him, eyebrows drawn together in concern, as he fed his card into the check-out kiosk, but he made no comment. Lance tried not to feel guilty at the total that flashed on the screen.

It wasn't until they were sliding into seats in the farthest corner of the room that the tears Lance was trying to fend off began to fall, betraying him. He made a choked sort of sound, stopping the noise of distress short when it left his mouth.

Nobody _ever_ asked him about these things.

Nobody had ever cared that his father often didn't remember he existed, let alone that he needed to eat. And Lance was eighteen, so it wasn't like the school or the authorities could _force_ his father to send him money. People just...shrugged it off. They didn't care that Lance was quite literally _starving_ and that his gut always ached. It didn't matter.

Even Hunk hadn't pressed the issue when Lance insisted he was _just a grazer_ despite the fact that Hunk never actually saw him snack on anything.

Lance had been very guiltily getting by on cereal bars snatched from the side pockets of other people's bags, apples slipped stealthily from serving carts when he trailed Hunk through the line, and the like. He crept them back to his room and devoured like them a rabid, stray animal.

And Keith had just bought him an entire damn _meal_ , without hesitation, as soon as he realized Lance couldn't buy it himself. Like he actually thought it was important to not let him go hungry.

Like Lance was, himself, important.

So, yeah. He kind of cried a little. Sue him.

Keith had a hand on his shoulder in an instant, his voice softer than Lance had ever heard it. "Hey... _hey._ It's...it's okay, alright? I'm sorry I asked about your dad. That was rude, it's none of my business. Just - just eat, please. You _need_ to eat."

"I know," Lance whispered. He wiped the ends of his sleeves over his eyes and nodded, giving Keith a sidelong look. Keith responded with an uncertain smile, hand still firm and sure on his shoulder. Lance wanted to speak up, to not sound so weak and pathetic, but his personal volume control was being uncooperative. The Dom had to lean in closer to hear him when he spoke again. "I, um. Kind of lied? I'm...actually... _really_ h-hungry."

Keith inhaled sharply. And there was that look of unadulterated fury again, quickly reigned in, but there all the same. He took his hand off of Lance's shoulder and began unloading the tray.

"Just take it slow," Keith warned, placing one of each food item in front of the sub. "I know you're hungry, but don't scarf it down, okay? You'll make yourself sick."

"Okay."

That was easier said than done.

The food was intoxicating, and there was plenty of it, and it was _his._ Lance couldn't help but inhale the mixed fruit cup, shoving spoonful after spoonful into his mouth. It was _so good_ and, God, he was so fucking _hungry._

It wasn't until Lance was halfway done with his lunch that he realized Keith had hardly touched his own. He was too busy watching the sub with a pained expression. He tried to straighten his features when Lance glanced over at him, but the intensity of those emotions was still so clear in his eyes.

"I'm sorry," Lance mumbled. "I'm...doing exactly the opposite of what you told me to do."

"No, hey, that's fine," Keith said quickly, shaking his head. He, too, seemed to be just now realizing he'd yet to take a bite. He picked up his fork and poked half-heartedly at a bowl of wilted side salad. "It's okay. You're hungry. Just eat."

"Okay." Lance paused, then caught Keith's eye, trying to offer what little bit of a smile he could muster. "Thank you. For the food, and...for sitting with me."

Lance watched the Adam's apple in the Dom's throat move as he gulped. "You're welcome."

* * *

One lunch together turned into seven.

Keith, who always sat at that exact corner table by himself, now sat there with Lance, blatantly ignoring all the same ugly stares and whispers that made Lance's chest ache.

Keith, who claimed to live not even five minutes away and would surely rather spend days off with his family, came back to the Garrison on both days of the weekend. He bought them both lunch, ate with Lance in the cafeteria while they talked about everything and nothing, then studied silently alongside him in the library afterwards.

Keith, who Lance had been so sure hated him with a burning passion not two weeks ago, now slipped wordlessly into the seat beside Lance in first period and pressed protein bars into his hand beneath the table.

Lance grew quickly accustomed to opening his bag at the end of the day and finding pieces of fruit and bags of chips inside. _When_ Keith was finding the time to sneak snacks into his bag, God only knew.

Lance learned a lot more in those thirty-minute lunches every day than he'd thought there _was_ to learn about Keith Kogane.

* * *

"So...Professor Wyler's your dad."

"Astute observation. You're a genius."

" _Ha, ha._ Does your mom work?"

"My other dad, you mean."

"Oh. Sorry. Yeah, him."

"Yeah. He works here, too, actually."

"Really? Would I know him?"

"Unlikely. He's a substitue cargo pilot instructor."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

* * *

"Do you have any siblings?"

"No. Adam and Shiro are still pretty young, though, so who knows."

"Oh."

"They used to just be my foster parents, but they adopted me a few years ago. Then they decided I was, like, _'all they wanted'_ or some dumb shit like that. So they don't foster anymore."

"Oh...wow. You were a foster kid?"

"Yeah."

"For how long?"

"I'd rather not talk about it."

"Sorry. I shouldn't have - I'm sorry."

"Lance, _hey_ \- calm down. It's fine, seriously."

"Okay. Sorry."

" _Lance._ Stop saying sorry."

"I...okay."

* * *

"He's...he's really not _mean_ , you know? He works a lot, and he's just...he's really busy."

"Couldn't your mom send you the money?"

"Oh. She's, um...not allowed to handle the money. Or use the internet. Or contact me without him."

"...excuse me, _what?_ "

"She's - my mom's the sub. And my dad, you know, has rules for her. That's normal...isn't it?"

"For a sub to have rules? Yes. To have rules that keep her from talking to her own kid? Absolutely the fuck _not._ "

"Oh. My brothers and sisters always said that was just, like, how things are supposed to work."

"Are any of them subs?"

"I - no. I'm the only one. Except for my mom, obviously."

"Then who fucking cares what they think?"

"W-what?"

"That's not normal, Lance. They don't get to decide what's normal and healthy and what's not, and that's just _not._ "

"Yeah...I guess."

"And don't take this the wrong way...but your dad sounds like a dick."

"He's... _well_. Okay. He's pretty much a dick."

* * *

"Are you sure I'm not keeping you from sitting with your friends?"

"I'm not exactly in the habit of making friends."

"..."

"..."

"Am I your friend?"

"Wha - _yes_. God, yes, you are, okay? Shit. Don't get all teary, I _hate_ that."

"Sorry. 'M sorry. I'm fine."

"Don't apologize. I just - don't like it. When you cry."

"Oh. Thanks. I guess."

"Yeah."

"I thought..."

"You thought what?"

"I thought you were friends with Darcy."

" _Ew._ Don't make me gag. Now my appetite's gone. Here, eat this for me."

* * *

"People don't want to be my friend very often."

"You and me both."

"I want friends. People just...don't want to be around me."

"Fuck them. I want to be around you. People fucking suck, anyway, you're not missing out."

"That's...thank you."

"Yeah. Yeah, sure. Cool. Whatever."

* * *

"You really didn't know I was a sub?"

"How was I supposed to know that?!"

"It's not exactly a secret. Not anymore, at least."

"I bet I'm not the only one who didn't know."

"The _entire school_ knew."

"Yeah, well, I'm not the entire fucking school, now am I, Becky? Th - _why are you laughing at me?"_

* * *

Darcy didn't bother Lance again.

She glared at Keith from across the room as he sat down with Lance for lunch every day, like they were children on a playground and he'd stolen her favorite toy.

She passed Lance in the halls, when Keith was nowhere to be found, and her face twisted up in annoyance and disappointment. Like she thought Lance would go running to scary, bloodthirsty Kogane if she so much as said a word to him.

She steered clear.

In fact... _everyone_ steered clear.

Doms who used to be "regular customers" in the bathrooms now only huffed in annoyance when Lance washed his hands at the sink beside them.

They watched him with silent, piercing eyes when Keith was at his side. When he was alone, they rolled their eyes and groaned, whispering ugly things if they happened to pass close enough for him to hear.

Nobody touched him. Nobody demanded he touch them. It almost felt like freedom.

It didn't take a genius to figure out that they all thought Keith was seriously persuing him. And nobody at the Garrison had big enough balls to mess around with something that belonged to Keith Kogane.

Lance made no effort to correct their assumptions.

He knew Keith would, eventually, get sick of him. He would get bored with this broken little sub who cried over everything, who panicked for no reason, who had no distinguishing qualities whatsoever.

Keith would realize soon enough that Lance didn't make for a very good friend. And then he would be alone again, with no widespread misunderstanding to protect him from greedy hands.

For now, though, Lance would enjoy the limited days of safety and peace while they were still within his reach.

For now, he would enjoy having a friend.


	15. you don't know me, you don't wanna know what's real

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam sighed a little. He removed his glasses and ran a hand through his hair. "Keith, um...Mr. McClain is, maybe, not..."
> 
> "Adam," Shiro said, quiet but with a hint of warning. 
> 
> "One of us has to say it, love," Adam told him. He caught Keith's eyes with his own. "Mr. McClain is maybe...not the best choice in subs for you to be pursuing."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhhhh-ohhhh…

"Keith? We need to talk."

Keith wasn't exactly an expert on having parents, but he liked to think he'd learned enough that he could trust his gut most of the time.

His gut told him that those words, plus the image of Shiro and Adam both standing in the archway between the kitchen and the living room with crossed arms, could only mean some serious shit was about to go down.

Really, it was the last thing he needed. His week had already been turned upside down and shaken like a cocktail. To be frank, Keith wasn't entirely certain it was _possible_ for him to have done anything that would get him in trouble, seeing as he'd hardly been home.

Which, it turned out, was exactly the problem.

"If I was going to run, I would have _done_ it already!" Keith found himself shouting five minutes later, hands shaking in anger, homework dropped and forgotten on the coffee table.

He knew he brought these things on himself. He was the one who lost their trust in the first place, and lost trust could not be reinstated overnight.

But _still_. Their accusation was unfair _and_ it made no sense.

"Then enlighten us," Adam said. He, too, was growing increasingly frustrated. His previously calm voice was now sharp and biting. "What have you been doing? Because you sure as hell haven't been home."

"I'm - " Keith started, then cut himself off with a growl. He pressed his palms to his eyes and felt the headache beginning to pound behind them, fingers pulling hard at his hair. Why was this so fucking hard to talk about? He just had a new friend. It wasn't even that big of a deal.

"You're what?" Shiro asked. He was by far the chillest person in the room, but firm disappointment was still evident in his voice. "Talk to us, Keith. What's going on?"

_Jesus_. Might as well just say it, then. He moved his hands aside just far enough to peer warily at the two of them.

"There's - there's this sub..." he started weakly.

Adam and Shiro practically deflated. Shiro's arms uncrossed and fell back to his sides. Adam's face quickly became the picture of relief, understanding, and slight amusement. It wasn't until the two shared a fond look and Adam began to speak that Keith realized, with a sense of mortified horror, how his words must have come across.

"Oh, _Keith,_ " Adam said, smiling like something was funny. "That's _great_. Why didn't you just tell us?"

"No!" Keith said quickly, feeling his own face heat up behind his hands and holy shit, since when was he the type to  _blush?_ "No, it's not - it's not like that!"

"It's okay if you're not sure yet," Shiro added. "You don't have to rush into claiming a sub. It's alright to just have a casual girlfriend for a while."

"Boyfriend," Keith corrected automatically. Shiro grinned and Adam quirked one eyebrow with a quiet _'oh?'_ "I - no! I don't - I don't _have_ a boyfriend, he's just a _friend_ \- I'm just saying that if I did, it _would_ be - not a - _gah!_ "

Words sucked. Parents sucked. The whole entire world fucking sucked. Keith turned and flopped belly-first onto the couch to hide his flaming face, only half-jokingly screaming into the cushions. Shiro snorted and Adam barked out a laugh.

"I have a _friend_ ," Keith said into the fabric, uncertain if they were even able to hear him. "That's what's happening. I made a fucking friend, okay? About twelve years late, but I made one."

"Language." Two hands lifted his legs and one of his fathers settled down on the couch, then let Keith's legs fall hapharzardly back down into his lap. The other made himself comfortable on the floor, patting Keith's back in condescending there-there motions.

"Well, that's still great," Adam said close to his head, clearly still stifling laughter. "But it doesn't explain why we hardly saw you all weekend. Doesn't your friend have other things to do?"

"We eat lunch. And then we study, in the library. We both need to eat and we both want to keep our grades up, so we might as well do it together. It's not a big deal."

"Mmhm." Shiro said. Keith knew him well enough that he could practically _hear_ the smirk in his voice, that smug bastard. "And does this ' _not a big deal'_  have a name?"

Why the hell not, you know? It was already a full confessional session. "Yeah. Lance."

His fathers grew silent, then. Adam's hand left his back. Keith rolled over and heaved himself into a sitting position, frowning at the awkward expressions on both men's faces. Neither of them met his eyes.

"What?" Keith asked, voice dangerously low. He looked between them, eyes narrowing. "What's wrong?"

"Would that maybe be Lance McClain?" Adam asked hesitantly, as if this was suddenly not a conversation he wanted to be having. Shiro shot him a slightly piercing look, and Adam ignored it.

"Um, yeah?" Keith said. His stomach was churning again. It was doing that a lot lately. He didn't like where this was going. "Why does it matter?"

Adam sighed a little. He removed his glasses and ran a hand through his hair. "Keith, um...Mr. McClain is, maybe, not..."

"Adam," Shiro said, quiet but with a hint of warning.

"One of us has to say it, love," Adam told him. He caught Keith's eyes with his own. "Mr. McClain is maybe... _not_ the best choice in subs for you to be pursuing."

_What the fuck?_

"Why the hell not?" Keith asked defensively, his voice rising a couple of knotches in volume. He crossed his arms over his chest, glaring. "Not - that I _am_ pursuing him, because I'm _not_ , but -"

"It's fine, Keith," Shiro cut in quickly. He was addressing his son, but his eyes were locked on Adam, who still did not return his gaze. Keith got the impression they'd had this conversation before, without him present. "You can be friends with anybody you'd like, as long as they aren't a bad influence."

"Exactly," Adam said. "As long as they _aren't a bad influence_. And Lance is -"

"Just a little misguided," Shiro said, voice taking on a hint of an edge Keith was so unused to hearing from him that it made his heart jump into his throat. "He's a _child_ , Adam, children make mistakes -"

"Not _those_ kinds of mistakes."

" _What_ kind of mistakes?" Keith shouted over them, rising to his feet. God, why wouldn't they _talk_ to him? And why did it sound like this was something they'd already discussed and tersely disagreed on?

_What did they know about Lance that he didn't?_

Shiro's voice was verging on the point of anger when he spoke again, and that was what scared Keith more than anything. Shiro rarely got angry.

"You have _no_ idea what it's like to be a sub in that school," he whispered. Not a soft whisper, but one too full of malice for Keith's comfort. There was a hidden meaning there; something personal, something only Adam was meant to hear. Keith didn't know how or why, but he could tell it was intended as a low blow. "You of _all_ people should know better than to make assumptions -"

_"Takashi!"_ Adam's eyes flashed with anger, and his jaw was clenched tight. Shiro froze in place. "That. Is. _Enough_."

Keith felt a wave of cold all over his body that made him shiver. The room began to feel foreign to him. He was suddenly an outsider in his own home. He knew instinctually that what he was witnessing was something private, intimate; something he was never meant to see.

Of course he _knew_ Shiro was Adam's sub. He knew Adam enforced rules Shiro was expected to follow. He knew Adam ultimately had control over every little aspect of Shiro's life, though he tried to grant him as much freedom as possible.

Keith had seen, watching fondly from the top of the staircase without his fathers' knowledge, Shiro curling up at Adam's feet while Adam lounged on the couch at night, practically purring as he nuzzled his nose into his Dom's knee and Adam's hand carded gently through his hair.

He'd seen Shiro insist Adam go sit down and relax while he did the dishes, and consequently seen Adam reward Shiro by holding him close and massaging knots of tension from his back while they watched TV.

He saw these things and a million more, every single day.

But he'd only ever seen the nice things - the dutiful acts of submission and service, and the soft, sweet rewards.

He had never, in all these years, seen Adam get so _angry_. Keith felt an instinctual and fleeting pang of fear for Shiro's safety, followed by a wave of guilt. He knew Adam would never even think of laying a finger on Shiro with intention of harm. But he was still so angry, and Shiro looked so...so  _not_ Shiro.

And suddenly the living room where a younger version of Keith had opened a box to filled-out adoption papers on Christmas morning and wept tears of joy, the place that had once been the warm and inviting and had an overwhelming essence of _home_ \- didn't feel like that anymore. It felt more like a battlefield. 

Shiro's reaction was immediate. His eyes widened, and he swallowed roughly, lowering his gaze to the floor in submission. Arms were crossed over his chest, and he sunk into the corner of the couch as if trying to disappear. He was the very picture of _I know I did something bad._ Strong, level-headed, independent _Shiro_ willingly submitted to the anger, accepting it.

"Understood," Shiro said quietly, in a tone Keith couldn't decipher. "I'm sorry."

Adam's face and shoulders loosened. Anger faded to simple frustration in an instant. He glanced at Keith, then quickly looked back to Shiro, clearing his throat.

"Thank you," Adam said, voice softer but stilted all the same. "You and I will be talking about this later. Keith -"

Keith clenched his fists as he remembered the original topic of their conversation, prepared to stand his ground. They were clearly far past discussing Lance, but Keith still wanted to know _why_ the mere mention of Lance's name had caused this evening to take a dramatic turn for the worst.

He wanted to know what _mistakes_ Lance had made that his fathers somehow knew more about than him.

" - please go to your room and finish your homework in there. I'll bring your dinner upstairs in a little bit."

"But I -"

"You're not in trouble. I just need you to stay upstairs for a little while." Adam spoke with an air of finality, and Keith felt his resolve waver.

He'd already made things so tense between his parents, albeit unintentionally. He didn't want to be caught up in the fight, too.

Keith gathered his notepad and trudged off, sparing one last look at Shiro. He seemed to be faring better by the second, slowly recovering from the shock of being scolded.

He was halfway up the stairs when Adam called out, "And, Keith?"

"Yeah?"

"Just...be careful. And remember that you're allowed to say no, too. Okay?"

"...yeah."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i feel like i should clarify a few things about the D/s dynamic for those who might not have been around the fanfic world years ago when Dom/sub AU's were all the rage (before ABO took it's place):
> 
> adam is not the bad guy here for being angry with shiro, even though he is clearly in the wrong about lance. this is not an abnormal or unhealthy D/s dynamic, it's just an awkward thing for keith, because these are his parents and he's used to viewing them as equals, so seeing adam dominate and shiro submit makes him feel like he's intruding on an intimate moment. 
> 
> the power balance in Dom/sub relationships is not equal and it is not meant to be - the difference in who holds the power is the foundation of the entire Dom/sub dynamic. the entire D/s AU was derived from the irl BDSM scene; it just takes the dynamics of people who roleplay BDSM in their sex lives, or choose to have a BDSM relationship, and turns that into the everyday reality of the world.
> 
> Doms have a need to dominate; subs have a need to submit. the Dom/sub dynamic scratches that itch for both parties. having rules/boundaries and being scolded and/or punished for breaking them is not only normal for subs, it is vital to their mental health. 
> 
> and again, i don't take credit for any of these concepts; this is just how D/s stories are written.
> 
> hope that clears things up!


	16. don't you dare say i'm gonna make it (cause i don't believe a word you say)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The very thought of Keith, however, was - comforting, in it's own right. The memory of his face and how warm it made Lance feel when he smiled. The smooth crescendo of his voice as a conversation progressed. The scent of sweet mint when he hugged Lance at the end of each school day and said 'see you tomorrow.'
> 
> It was the melodious sound, one he'd practically memorized, of Keith laughing and asking 'but why do they call it a drive through when you have to stop?!' that Lance fell back asleep to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'ALL ARE SO EXTRA ABOUT ADAM IN THE LAST CHAPTER'S REVIEWS OML.
> 
> yes he's wrong about lance but y'all he really wasn't "telling shiro to shut up" or anything - shiro very purposely crossed a personal boundary by bringing up something he knew would hurt adam. it's not like subs don't know their boundaries. shiro knows. he chose to cross a line anyway.
> 
> but in regards to adam's thoughts toward lance? yes he's being a dick toward lance rn, y'all are entirely correct about that.
> 
> so they were both at fault there but in different ways. and poor keef was just caught in the middle 
> 
> this chapter is kind of angsty but also really sweet?? basically you're about to watch lance bittersweetly realize he's falling for keith. ENJOY.

The images came to him in sharp, clear picture; memories of trauma presented in high definition and surround-sound. His own voice _begging always begging because he was so so so weak_ , the faces of seven monsters he called classmates and brushed shoulders with in the halls, _teen sub whore likes it rough_ online for everyone to see, and -

And Keith, spitting at his feet. _You're pathetic. You disgust me. I can't believe I called you my friend._

It was this last sequence that ripped Lance from his sleep with an animalistic scream, hands reaching out in the dark for something, anything, he might be able to grasp onto - reality, maybe.

What he ended up finding was the button on a cheap, standard dorm lamp, his hands trembling so badly that the entire lamp tumbled to the floor, splaying light across the ceiling.

The once soft white sheets might as well have been flames licking up around him, burning his skin, and Lance thrashed where he was tangled between them. When he finally managed to free himself from the bed's entrapments, his knees hit the floor, sending a sharp jolt of pain through the joints.

Lance felt his breath coming in sharp, desperate pants, growing shorter and more shallow by the second. He closed his eyes while that familiar terror began to course through his veins. _Not again not again not again not again._

He'd been so _stupid_ to think he could sleep there again so soon, to think he was done with the nightmares and the panic attacks just because he felt marginally better this week. He should have slept on the floor to begin with. Just because most everyone had decided to leave him be, just because he felt safe again for the first time in so long, just because he had a friend now - that didn't erase everything that had already happened. That didn't make any of it go away. Nothing could undo the past. Not even Keith.

_Keith_. Keith, Keith, Keith. That was what he needed, he needed Keith.

But he didn't have Keith's phone number. Hadn't even thought to ask for it, since they saw each other every day, anyways. And even if he did have it, Lance hardly thought he'd be able to bring himself to wake Keith up in the dead of night because his stupid, pathetic, weak little sub brain couldn't handle a simple nightmare.

The very thought of Keith, however, was - _comforting_ , in it's own right. The memory of his face and how warm it made Lance feel when he smiled. The smooth crescendo of his voice as a conversation progressed. The scent of sweet mint when he hugged Lance at the end of each school day and said _see you tomorrow._

The thought that this had, undoubtedly, been the greatest week of his life, despite the ones before it being rife with tragedy.

Lance knew how to calm himself down from a panic attack. It was horrible, and it was awful, and he usually ended up in tears - but he could do it. He could tame his wild breaths and dull his jagged and spiked emotions. He could force himself into a state of feeling not quite calm, but calm enough to think clearly. It was always difficult.

But this time, it wasn't. It wasn't difficult at all.

Lance stretched out on his back, embraced the solid floor beneath him, felt the far too fast but nevertheless steady beat of his own heart - and thought of Keith. Keith's smile, Keith's laugh, the way he smelled, the many different ways he talked when he was indignant versus amused versus confused versus sad. The way he looked at Lance like it was actually the sun and moon and all the stars themselves that were standing before him in all their glory.

The way Keith had strolled into first period, aggresively inserted himself into Lance's life, and proceeded to completely flip it upside down within a single week. This Dom had turned his burning, agonizing hell of an existence into something at least bearable (and maybe even a little pleasant, too.) Single-handedly, like it was _no big fuckin' whoop,_ as Keith would put it.

Lance trusted Keith. Trusted him more than he'd ever trusted anyone in his life. Trusted him _with_ his life.

And it was, ultimately, the thought of _I get to see Keith tomorrow, get to tell him I had a nightmare and it sucked, get to be hugged so tight, get to be told that does suck are you okay, get to see Keith Keith Keith_ playing on a mental loop that got Lance through the worst of it. It was Keith's eyes, and Keith's words, and Keith's surprisingly gentle interior once his walls were deconstructed, that allowed him to gain control once again over his mind and body.

It was the melodious sound, one he'd practically memorized, of Keith laughing and asking _but why do they call it a drive through when you have to stop?!_ that Lance fell back asleep to.

He was not going to be okay in the end, he knew. But that was alright. Lance was all too aware that happily ever after had never been in his cards to begin with. If happily just-for-a-little-while with funny, kind, unpredictable Keith Kogane was the best he was going to get, then so be it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fun fact: when I went in this morning to make sure this chapter was ready to go it wasn't in my ao3 drafts and was completely missing from my flashdrive. the original chapter 16 yeeted itself out of existence. this version is a rushed rewrite I wrote on my lunch break today at the last hot minute. I hope u appreciate my commitment to the update schedule.


	17. i'm now becoming my own self-fulfilled prophecy (oh no! oh no! oh no!)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith Kogane had firmly decided at three of the most pivotal points in his childhood that he was never going to love any person in any way for as long as he lived.
> 
> Keith, as it turned out, was fucking shit at keeping promises. Because Lance McClain was sitting in the seat beside him in a crowded cafeteria, head on Keith's shoulder as he yawned and blinked wearily.
> 
> Keith gulped.
> 
> His thirteen year old self would be so fucking pissed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you saw lance realize he was falling for keith; now have some pining keith, featuring some sad baby-keef backstory
> 
> enjoy!

Keith Kogane had firmly decided at three of the most pivotal points in his childhood that he was never going to love any person in any way for as long as he lived.

It sounded harsh, but maybe he was just a harsh person.

The first time was when he was five, and his father's knife had frozen on the cutting board when Keith asked, without looking up from his fighter pilot ships and action figures, why he didn't have a mommy. His father's response made him lose his appetite for dinner.

"Because I loved her too much."

As a teenager, Keith could look back at that moment and admit that there was, perhaps, some poetic beauty in the way it was phrased. But his five year old self took the comment quite literally, as five year olds are wont to do; could you really love somebody so much that they just disappeared?

Keith decided at the age of five that he would never love anyone besides his father, for the safety of everyone around him.

The second time was as he stood over his father's grave, one of three mourners present for the burial. The other two being his father's estranged sister and mother, who both couldn't have been bothered to even _pretend_ they cared. Who couldn't have been bothered to make an excuse as to why they weren't willing to take Keith in; who had no qualms telling this small, traumatized child to his face that they just didn't want him.

Keith didn't count his new foster mother in the headcount of people who attended the funeral, because she'd stood several yards away, leaning against a tree and staring at her phone the entire time.

The memory of his father's voice, tense and wrought tight with emotion, _because I loved her too much_ , echoed in his head for weeks. When his father said that, it wasn't because his mother had just disappeared, he realized - it must have been because his mother was dead.

And now Keith had killed his father.

He decided that he must have loved the man too much. He loved to play fighter pilots with him and read stories with him and help him cook, loved to kiss his cheek at bedtime and tell him _I love you, daddy._

Now he didn't have a father, and he was all alone in the world, but he only had himself to blame.

Keith decided at the age of nine that he would never love anyone, for his _own_ safety. Because he was certain that he himself would die if he had to endure pain like that ever again.

The third time was when he left his final foster home, just before the universe took pity and led him to Adam and Shiro.

To be more specific: when he left his final foster home on a stretcher in the back of an ambulance, with one eye swollen shut and the ugly evidence of internal bleeding spread across his pale torso, staring blankly at the paramedic who told him _it's okay to cry_ and insisted on wrapping him up in a shock blanket when he came back with _there's no reason to._

Keith decided at the age of thirteen that he would never love anyone, because humanity was a steaming cesspool of greed and evil and _none_ of these motherfuckers deserved love. Not a single one. Not even him.

He arrived on the doorstep of Takashi Shirogane and Adam Wyler one week later, with aching stitches in his side and a still black eye. They both shook his hand firmly, which he liked because it made him feel like an adult, and smiled like they were happy to see him.

Adam let Keith hold onto his arm to help him walk to the couch when he said his stitches made it difficult. The man then made a somewhat passive agressive comment about _you would think they'd let a kid just out of surgery at least have some ibuprofen or something_ , plenty loud enough for the social worker trailing behind them to hear. Keith liked him immediately.

Once the social worker had finished giving the couple a spruced-up backstory and left, Shiro went into the kitchen and returned five minutes later with three steaming mugs of cocoa. He pressed one into Keith's cold hands and asked, _alright, buddy - now what_ really _happened?_

To make a long story short, Keith did not end up keeping his promise to himself about never loving anyone ever again. He couldn't help it. He loved Shiro and Adam.

They made him feel loved without making him feel smothered (most of the time.) They helped him with his homework but didn't tell him the answers, saying that if they did that he wouldn't actually learn anything. They took him out to see movies and helped him paint his new room red. They let him pick his own clothes and did not complain when he ended up with a wardrobe consisting mostly of black shirts and dark denim. They let the thirteen year old, who was far too old to be doing so by most peoples' standards, crawl into their bed and cry, wrapped up in a tight embrace between them, when he had nightmares.

He loved them. He loved them so quickly and so much, because nobody had done these kinds of things for him since - well. Since his actual father was still alive.

Before the end of three months, they had decided that they loved him him right back and promptly adopted him, and the rest was history.

(Now, Keith refused to refer to his biological father as his father. Now, Keith refused to admit he had ever loved the man, because he'd certainly never loved Keith. Not if he had so willingly sacrificed his life in the line of duty without thinking of what would happen to his son.)

So maybe Keith still had a lot of walls up. And a side of abandonment issues, too, if he was perfectly honest. But that was fine. Shiro and Adam were definitely, absolutely the only ones, he'd looked at himself in the bathroom mirror and sworn, a mere hour before his new fathers signed on the dotted lines in front of all the right people to say that Keith was officially _theirs_. He would certainly never, ever love anybody else.

Keith, as it turned out, was fucking shit at keeping promises. In this moment, years later, he was terrified to realize he might have actually just broken the trust between today-him and adoption-day-him.

Because Lance McClain was sitting in the seat beside him in a crowded cafeteria, surrounded by glares and whispers they both pointedly ignored, head on Keith's shoulder as he yawned and blinked wearily and mumbled that he'd had a nightmare and hadn't slept for very long afterwards.

Lance, who was easily the most perfect sub to ever exist, kind and funny and sweet and adorable. Lance, with his impossibly soft skin and his striking blue eyes and his shy smile. Lance, who was beginning to look more like his old self again rather than a walking skeleton. Lance, who was, Keith both suspected and feared, likely suffering from depression.

Lance, who was so, _so_ lovable that Keith could love him easily, in a split second, if he were to really give himself permission.

Lance, who Keith had begrudgingly disliked only eight days ago, but now -

Everything was different. It wasn't eight days ago anymore, it was today. And today, everything was so entirely, spectacularly different.

The planet itself spun on a different axis now than it had eight days ago. 

"Sorry about your nightmare," Keith whispered, hand drifting into the sub's hair of it's own accord. Lance made a contented, mewling type of sound at the contact, closed eyelids fluttering as he nuzzled his face further into Keith's shoulder and -

_Oh, shit._

Keith found himself having to think frantically of the grossest, most unarousing things possible to counteract the fact that this gorgeous sub was making that sweet sound at the touch of his hand, practically _cuddling_ him. Because - because his jeans suddenly felt tighter in one particular area, and that was - that was not very good.

"'S okay," Lance sighed happily in response. "Got my hugs. Doesn't matter anymore."

Keith gulped.

His thirteen year old self would be so fucking pissed.


	18. i've got thick skin and an elastic heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith felt his hands shaking with rage he was barely managing to contain as he went to dump his unfinished lunch in the garbage.
> 
> The next time he got his hands on Adam Wyler, there was going to be fucking hell to pay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh noooo! drama drama mama llama :(

"Okay, so - _you_ were never friends with Darcy?"

Lance paused mid-bite, the fork raised halfway to his mouth, cocking his head at Keith in a mixture of bewilderment and amusement. (And something else in his eyes that Keith couldn't quite place, but he'd learned his lesson about asking Lance rude questions, so he let it be.)

"We've been over this," Lance said mildly. " _You_ aren't friends with Darcy. _I'm_ not friends with Darcy. _Nobody_ is friends with Darcy."

Keith scoffed, not bothering to hide the small smile pulling at his lips the way he once would have. "Truer words were never spoken."

"Mmhm," Lance said somewhat absently, his eyes suddenly locked onto another section of Keith's face, lower than his eyes. He caught Keith watching him with raised eyebrows and blushed, lowering his head in a bashful sort of way that made Keith's heart skip a beat. Then Lance explained: "Your smile just, uh - you have a dimple, on the one side. Like, the side you smile on."

Keith's smile turned into a troubled frown. "I only smile on one side?"

Lance laughed at him, beaming wide, teeth practically sparkling in the light. "Sure do."

"Oh, great. So every time I'm happy, somebody probably thinks I'm having a fucking stroke. That's nice."

Lance, still smiling, finally raised the fork to his mouth. Keith was pleasantly surprised at the warm feeling it gave him to see the sub eating at a normal pace, like somebody who had plenty, rather than savaging his food in desperate hunger.

"Okay, there's still one thing I don't get, though," Keith said, then paused, hesitating. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Shoot."

"What were you and Darcy doing, in the hall that day? You know. When she had to come get her phone."

Lance's playful demeanor was gone in an instant, his face paling. Keith felt a surge of panic rising in him. So much for not asking invasive questions.

He leaned forward, hand reaching across the table to - to put on Lance's shoulder, or to hold _his_ hand, or something, anything to help him come back down to earth - until he realized that Lance wasn't reacting to his question at all. In fact, he wasn't even looking at Keith. He was looking over Keith's shoulder, eyes wide in fear.

Keith whirled around, anger bubbling up his throat, ready to spill out onto whoever was putting that terrified look on the sub's face.

And he stopped short.

Lance was looking at Adam, who stood near the doorway to the staff dining area, speaking to a student. Or at least, the student was speaking animatedly to Adam. She didn't seem to realize the Professor wasn't looking at her at all.

Adam was watching them. And clearly had been for a while, eyes narrowed in distrust and a frown of thinly veiled concern firmly in place. When he realized he'd been caught, he flashed them a brief, strained smile, and quickly turned his attention back on his student.

It wasn't a huge deal, probably. Just Adam, who worried about both Keith and Shiro constantly, being his overprotective self. But the damage was done.

Lance seemed to think it _was_ a pretty big deal. He rose quickly and clumsily to his feet, heaving his backpack onto his shoulder.

"I gotta go," Lance mumbled in a shaky voice, face paler than it should have been. "See you later."

Keith rose out of his seat, too, calling after the older boy as he power-walked away.

"Wait - Lance, it's _fine_ , don't - "

But he was already gone, the top of his head visible for just a moment amongst a sea of students before he disappeared altogether.

Keith turned back toward the staff room, ready to pour out all of his rage publicly, if that was what it took, only to find that Adam was no longer anywhere to be found, either. Keith wondered if he'd had a chance to see Lance's reaction, see the fear he had unintentionally instilled into an innocent and vulnerable sub. He hoped so. He hoped Adam was cowering away somewhere from the anger he knew Keith had to be burning with, feeling guilty.

Keith felt his hands shaking with rage he was barely managing to contain as he went to dump his unfinished lunch in the garbage.

The next time he got his hands on Adam Wyler, there was going to be fucking hell to pay.


	19. yeah let's be clear i'll trust no one

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The other day," Keith started quietly, "when you said Lance has made mistakes. What...what did you mean by that?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm gonna go ahead and warn y'all now.....that you need to brace yourselves for the next 5 or so chapters....
> 
> it is also not at all for the reasons you think it's going to be. 
> 
> that is it that is all.

Shiro and Adam were sitting on the couch together when Keith slammed the front door hard enough that the windows rattled.

"What the hell is _wrong_ with you?!" He shouted, tossing his backpack hapharzadly onto the floor.

Shiro frowned in clear confusion, his hand pausing it's ministrations rubbing tenderly at Adam's hair. Adam, who looked much more worn and ragged than he had when they left that morning, gave him an almost guilty look. Keith might have faltered if he hadn't been so furious.

Then Adam shook his head in denial. Oh. Playing dumb, then. "Keith, I don't know what you -"

" _Yes_ , you do!" Keith roared. "You know _exactly_ what you did! _What the fuck is wrong with you?_ "

"Keith!" Shiro snapped in warning, expression going hard. He glanced between the two of them. "I don't know what's going on here, but you may _not_ speak to either of us like that. _Ever_."

"No, it's fine. He's right." Adam sighed in defeat.

Keith did a double take, blinking. His rage was abated slightly by the shock of the confession. Shiro's confusion visibly deepened.

"What's going on?" Shiro demanded.

Adam looked at his sub and winced, like this was something he wasn't proud of nor looking forward to sharing. "I...there was a misunderstanding," he said slowly.

All of Keith's fading anger was rekindled in an instant.

"There was _no_ misunderstanding," he snapped. "We understood you just fine."

Adam raised his eyebrows. "'We'?"

Keith took an almost threatening step forward, his hands twitching at his sides. Adam sat up straighter, out of his slumped and tired pose.

"Yes, _we_ ," Keith growled. "Lance, who you _scared the fucking shit out of_ , and me."

Shiro looked narrow-eyed at his Dom with an exasperated, "You did _what?_ " At the same time that Adam winced and quietly asked, "I scared him?"

"Yeah, you did." Keith tried not to let the fact that Adam was clearly feeling guilt on some level, even if not a conscious one, affect his indignance. Lance deserved better than to be treated like that. Somebody had to stand up for him. "Ran off with his tail between his legs. He was terrified."

Adam was quiet for a long moment. Then he glanced between Keith and Shiro, who were both staring at him expectantly, and took a deep breath.

"I didn't...I didn't really think too much about him being a sub," Adam said, looking in Keith's general direction but not quite at him. "I was just thinking of him as..."

Keith watched the gears in the man's head turn for a moment before prompting him on. "As what?"

"As a threat to you." Adam grimaced as he said it, then quickly continued when Keith opened his mouth to protest. "I _know_ he's not. I know you can take care of yourself, Keith. I just worry about you. And with good reason."

Something was off in his tone when he tacked on that final _with good reason_. Something that made Shiro give him a biting look. Adam didn't get angry this time; he only gave his partner an apologetic glance in return. Keith was marginally relieved at the implication, which told him his parents were no longer fighting. But that drop of relief was drowned out by a wave of fear and concern.

What _was_ Adam's 'good reason'?

All of Keith's anger left him in a rush. He shifted hesitantly from foot to foot.

"The other day," Keith started quietly, "when you said Lance has made mistakes. What...what did you mean by that?"

Shiro and Adam shared another look. Keith hated it when they did that. He hated that knew each other well enough to communicate without words, always leaving him in the dark. And, just as Keith thought he would, Adam shook his head resolutely.

"It's not my place to tell you that," Adam said, then paused. "I...I do owe Lance an apology, though. I think Ta- _Shiro_ was...a little kinder in his judgment than I was." He looked Keith in the eye for the first time that day. "I'll apologize for today when I see him in class tomorrow afternoon. Alright?"

Keith completely deflated then, realizing he wasn't going to get any answers on the subject - or, at least, wasn't going to get them from Adam. But if Adam was serious about making amends with Lance, Keith wasn't about to push his luck.

"Fine," he said, picking up his backpack with a twinge of embarrassment when he remembered his tendency to throw it around in his frequent moments of anger. "That's - that would be nice. Thanks."

Adam nodded firmly. "Of course. He's lucky to have a friend who cares as much as you do, Keith. I hope he knows that."

Keith was entirely certain that he was the lucky one in that scenario - but, again, no luck-pushing. "Yeah. I think he does."

"Good." Adam smiled at him. "Now go study, please. You have a test in my class tomorrow."

Keith's groan as he trudged up the stairs was halfhearted at best, and the soft laughter from two familiar voices eased some of his lingering discomfort.

Not all of it, though. Because the question still remained:

_What mistakes?_


	20. do you feel like a man when you push him around?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why? Why did this always happen to him? This wasn't fair wasn't fair wasn't fair he didn't deserve this. Keith would protect him. Where was Keith?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DID YOU GUYS SEE THE NEW TRAILER?? I'M FREAKING OUT AAHHHHHHHH IM SO HYPED FOR SEASON 8

Lance wasn't avoiding Keith after the Wyler lunch fiasco earlier that day.

_Really_ , he wasn't.

Sure, he quite literally ducked out of sight when he heard Keith calling his name from somewhere down the hall after last period. And yes, he blew off their after-school study session in the library without warning, which likely left Keith waiting around for a while. But he wasn't _avoiding_ him. Lance wasn't scared of Keith.

He _was_ scared of how Wyler would react if he saw Lance with his son again. He was scared that Keith would realize his father was right, and that they simply weren't destined to be friends. He was scared that Keith would see, one day, eventually, that he was too good for the likes of Lance McClain and always had been. He was scared of a lot of things that _had to do_ with Keith. But he was not scared of Keith.

Keith would never hurt him. He was, actually, one of the few Doms alive Lance trusted not to do so, along with his four siblings and... _well_. That was about it.

Lance's brain and body were, apparently, not as aware as his heart.

His hands shook and his heart raced when he considered actually sticking to their study session. This new anxiety over Wyler seemed to be overriding any desire to be with Keith, and _that_ \- that really sucked.

Lance, aching with guilt, stood Keith up.

He would give himself the night to calm down, he decided, and apologize tomorrow morning. Keith would understand. Keith always understood. He was...he was really great like that.

Lance really did have to study, though, even if he didn't feel up to studying with his friend. He was still firmly on the train of trying to keep his grades high so he could stay at the Garrison, and now that Keith was in his life, he had more reason than ever.

So Lance waited until a safe time, when he knew Keith would have gone home for the day - because despite his badass facade, Keith Kogane was exactly the kind of person who would wait around for another hour after being blown off, just in case - and most of his fellow boarders would be in the cafeteria, eating dinners Lance could not afford.

He walked by himself to the library, downloaded temporary files of the reference books he needed to his notepad, and studied alone in an empty room. When he felt confident enough in his ability to ace the physics test the following afternoon, Lance allowed the book-return kiosk to wipe the borrowed files from his notepad, and started off down the now-darkened halls.

It was then that Lance started to really, really wish he hadn't blown Keith off.

He wrapped his arms around himself, holding the notepad in one hand, and made quiet work of hurrying back to his room. He tried not to think too much about the fact that Keith was not here after-hours to protect him.

It wasn't that Lance was afraid of the dark. He wasn't. But he was very, _very_ afraid of the evil that tended to lurk there.

Evil like a male Dom that Lance happened to cross paths with when he was _this close, so, so close_ to his dorm. Evil like the way the Dom smirked in recognition when he caught Lance walking the opposite way, keeping his head down and his shoulders hunched.

Evil like the way the way the nameless Dom grabbed his wrist, just the way Darcy liked to do, and held him in a white-knuckled grip.

"Hey, buddy," the boy said in a falsely kind way, like he was greeting an old friend rather than a potential victim. "Where you off to in such a hurry? Kogane waiting for you?"

Lance's heart jumped at the opportunity. He took it gladly. "Y-yes," he whispered, unable to meet the Dom's eyes. "He is. So I - I have to -"

He was cut off by his own sharp inhale as the boy's other hand gripped his chin, pulling Lance's face roughly toward his own. The forced eye contact sent shivers down Lance's spine and terror spiraling through his veins.

_Oh, God. Where's Keith? Keith. I need Keith. Keith will protect me. Where's Keith?_

And Keith _would_ protect him, were he there. Lance knew he would. Keith would go off on this other Dom in absolute fury, then help Lance back to his room and hold him tight while he fought off the panic, asking _are you alright? How can I help?_

But Keith wasn't there, and Lance had no way of contacting him. And even if he did, he couldn't very well pull his phone out of his pocket and send a casual text in that particular moment.

He shouldn't have stood Keith up. He should have just met up with his friend and studied with him and then gone back to his room before the hall lights were turned down. God, he was so _stupid stupid stupid._

"Don't lie to me," the Dom said in an ice-cold way. His smirk fell, and he suddenly looked far from amused. He shook Lance roughly where his hand gripped his chin, earning a terrified whimper from the sub. "I saw Kogane leave fucking _hours_ ago. Wow. When did _you_ learn how to lie?"

Another hand gripped his hair, pulling hard, as if the Dom needed to exert any more control over him, and Lance couldn't help the sudden tears spilling down his cheeks. He was _scared so fucking scared he needed Keith where was Keith please Keith Keith Keith help me please._

"You're a little fucking _shit_ , you know that?" The boy hissed, close enough now for Lance to smell his foul breath. He shook the boy a little harder to protest the lack of response. "Who the hell do you think you are? Show me some fucking respect."

It was the last thing Lance wanted to do, because this vicious boy didn't _deserve_ it - but this familiar fear for his own life far outweighed the self-respect and indignance Keith had been trying to ignite in him as of late.

"Yes, Sir," he whispered. The words left a bitter taste in his mouth. "I'm sorry, Sir."

"Damn fucking right you are." The Dom seemed to lose all of his anger at the apology. Lance watched in horror as a new emotion overtook the other boy's body language and eyes: lust. He looked up and down Lance's body in hunger, the grips on his chin and hair still painfully tight. "God, you're _so pretty_. Anyone ever tell you that? Kogane's out of his fucking _mind_ if he think he's gonna hog the easiest fuck in school like that. What if I want a turn?"

Lance had no words left. His only response was a choked sob as a fresh wave of tears began to fall. _Why? Why did this always happen to him? This wasn't fair wasn't fair wasn't fair he didn't deserve this. Keith would protect him. Where was Keith?_

The boy huffed in laughter, as if Lance's primal fear amused him. It probably did.

"Well, it's gonna have to wait," he whispered hesitantly, licking his lips. "As much as I'd love to have a pretty thing like you, I've got another little beauty waiting for me downstairs. Where's _your_ dorm, sweetheart?" The boy nodded towards the elevators a mere few yards away. "Going down?"

And Lance, even in his haze of fear, found the strength to make a mental note to himself: _thank Keith for teaching you how to lie._ "Y-yes, sir. But I...I h-have to use the b-bathroom first."

Lance's dorm was the farthest from downstairs one could get. His dorm was on the top floor, as a matter of fact. And he didn't actually have to use the bathroom.

But the Dom bought it instantly. He nodded mutely, still undressing the sub with his eyes. He'd likely heard all about Lance. He probably knew Lance was incapable of lying to a Dom.

Or at least, _used_ to be incapable. But here he was now, flat-out lying not only to the face of a Dom, but to the face of a Dom who literally held Lance's life in his hands. Since when did he have such balls?

_That's Keith. He taught you that. He's protecting you. He's not even here, and he's protecting you. He always does. Keith Keith Keith._

And then the Dom let go. Lance's hair and chin were released, and he felt warm relief flooding through him, overtaking the terror. The halls were not cold, but his entire body trembled with an oncoming adrenaline crash.

"Guess I'll just have to wait my turn," the Dom smiled again, flashing ugly yellow teeth. "You get some sleep, pretty boy, hm? Wouldn't want you to be tired when you whore yourself out to Kogane tomorrow."

Lance took the opportunity and hurried on jelly legs down the hall, nearly tripping over his own feet several times. He heard the ding of the elevator announcing it's arrival echoing out in the hall as he stumbled into a dimly lit bathroom and gripped the edge of the sink, gasping for breath he hadn't realized he'd lost in the first place.

If Lance took a scalding hot shower that night, burning red into every inch of skin until the water ran cold, it was nobody's business but his own.


	21. a pebble in the water makes a ripple effect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something was wrong.
> 
> Something was coming. 
> 
> And whatever it was, it wasn't going to be pretty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is the first chapter from shiro's POV! yes, I said the first. there will be 12 & 1/2 more from him in this fic.
> 
> no, that's not a typo. twelve. and. a. half.
> 
> this chapter does have some plot significance but it's also kind of just some sweet adashi because i'm trash for them, bless.
> 
> enjoy!

The door to Keith's room quietly creaked and clicked shut, and Shiro watched Adam drop his head back onto the couch with a heaving sigh.

He poked his Dom's side to get his attention. Adam opened a single eye beneath his glasses to peer at him.

"Hey," Shiro said in a hushed voice, not quite putting it past Keith to press his ear against the floor and eavesdrop. "You never told me what you actually _did_."

Adam opened his eyes fully then, bringing a hand to rest on the back of Shiro's neck. The gesture was soothing and familiar, warm fingers pressing in massaging motions.

"I didn't really _do_ anything," Adam said slowly. "I was...watching them, while they ate lunch. Just...thinking. And I suppose whatever look I had on my face must have scared his friend. I really didn't mean to frighten him."

"Mmm," Shiro hummed in acknowledgment. "And what were you thinking _about?_ "

Adam bit down on his bottom lip, and Shiro blinked at the sight, reminding himself that he was trying to have a mature, adult conversation.

"Those videos," Adam brought his voice down to a whisper, glancing at the ceiling as if he'd had the same paranoid thought about their child's unquenchable curiosity.

"Adam..." Shiro started, unsure how he should approach the clearly sensitive topic. He wanted to be respectful of his Dom - Adam was _so_ good to him, and more than deserving of his sub's respect - but at the same time...

"I know," Adam was quick to interject, saving him the trouble. "I know. He's just a kid. Kids do stupid things. And it's sad, really, that Lance thinks he has to do _these_ sorts of things. To make people like him, or accept him, or whatever his goal is."

"It is sad," Shiro whispered. "That's exactly my point. I think - Adam, I think Keith would be _good_ for this boy. I really do. And it might even help Keith mature a little, you know? Help him realize there are more important things."

"But I don't want him feeling pressured into anything, either."

Shiro had to laugh at that, the sound so surprisingly loud that he had to clap a hand over his mouth. Adam give him a look.

"Sorry," Shiro said through a grin. "But _seriously?_ Keith 'in one ear, out the other' Kogane? We can barely get him to listen to _us_ , and we're his parents. You really think _our_ kid's going to give into peer pressure like that?"

Adam paused. "I guess not."

" _Damn straight_ not. We raised a tough little shit."

Then Adam was smiling, too. The Dom leaned in to press a soft kiss to his lips, and Shiro sighed slightly into his lover's mouth, eyes fluttering closed. He brought a hand up to Adam's face, resting on his jaw where the stubble of a five-o-clock shadow tickled his palm.

"We did, didn't we?" Adam breathed against his mouth when he pulled away, resting his forehead against Shiro's. "I just..."

"I know. You worry. And I love you for that, okay? I love that you want to protect us. But sometimes we can protect ourselves."

"You can. I know you can." Adam pressed his lips to the tip of Shiro's nose, sending a warm rush of affection blossoming through the sub that made his fingers tingle. "I love you _so_ much. How do you put up with me?"

Shiro grinned at him as he pulled his head back, shoving Adam's shoulder lightly. "I was claimed by a tough little shit, too. I've got a theme going here."

" _Damn straight_ you do."

"Hey! That's my line, you dork."

"Shut up and let me kiss you, huh?"

And as the night rolled on into something more intimate, Shiro panting lightly and grappling at their bedsheets as Adam kissed and bit his way down the sub's body, pressing possessive words into his skin, there was a sense of dread in his bones. Something deep and instinctual; something that told him he had every reason to worry about Keith and Lance.

It was the same feeling he had before his doctor's appointment, almost six years back, when they'd broken the news to him of the disease ravaging his muscular tissue - told him he had another twenty years, tops - and given him thin metal bracelets to help dampen the pain.

It was the same feeling he had one summer afternoon only a few months before, right before he got a call from the local hospital, the day Adam broke his arm and Keith received a moderate concussion in an auto accident after the self-driving system in a car speeding the opposite direction malfunctioned.

It was the same feeling he had for days leading up to the phone call telling them to prepare their home for another foster child. A young, perpetually angry teenager, beaten black and blue for over a year right under the noses of his social workers, in desperate need of the love and safety he'd been deprived of for nearly all his life. It was the feeling that still settled in his guts at night every now and then, warning him that a silently crying seventeen year old was about to come and curl up with them any moment, hungry for security and home.

The feeling lingered until he finally unraveled beneath his Dom's hands and fell into subspace, relaxing under the bliss of climax and the safety of Adam's arms wrapped tight around him, keeping him warm, content, _loved._

The feeling was amplified times ten when he woke the next morning, ravaged by a headache and an overwhelming nausea that had nothing to do with his disease, if the green indicator lights on his bracelets were anything to go by.

Something was wrong.

Something was coming.

And whatever it was, it wasn't going to be pretty. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> note on their ages: shiro and adam are a bit older in this than they are canonically. they're both about thirty here. they've been together since they were keith and lance's age, both went to college for teaching degrees in astropiloting and physics respectively, and have been teaching at the Garrison for approximately seven years.


	22. i'm sitting, waiting on the sun to rise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That grip once again held fast to his wrist, and another, in his hair, yanking his head to look.
> 
> "Who fucking cares what you want?" The boy whispered. "Kogane's a fucking asshole. If he wanted you for himself, he should have claimed you. The rest of us are getting impatient."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm sorry

Lance arrived a good thirty minutes early to first period the next day, his skin still itching with the feeling of a strange boy's hands. He needed to see Keith, to hear him, in order to feel safe again.

He had no idea how he'd gotten to the point where he needed one specific Dom within his general vicinity at all times to feel safe, but here he was. It was a huge step up from _never_ feeling safe, at least.

The lights were still off in Professor Campbell's classroom when Lance arrived. He opted to leave them that way, not wanting to attract any unneccessary attention to himself. Everyone already thought he was weird. The last thing he needed was a teacher's pet label to match the slutty one. Or - he shuddered - some combination of the two.

Lance had hardly slung his backpack into Keith's usual seat before the door opened.

Time seemed to slow almost to a halt as a vaguely familiar face appeared shadowed in the doorway. The same ugly yellow teeth flashed the same perverted smile at him once again.

"Hey, pretty boy."

_Oh God oh God oh God oh God._

"What are you doing here?" Lance was trying to sound firm and sure, but his voice wavered and his eyes were already tearing up and oh, God, was there even any air in the classroom? He couldn't breathe. "I don't...I want you to leave me alone, okay? I'm not interested."

That grip once again held fast to his wrist, and another, in his hair, yanking his head to look.

"Who fucking cares what you want?" The boy whispered. "Kogane's a fucking asshole. If he wanted you for himself, he should have claimed you. The rest of us are getting impatient."

It was not an unfamiliar position for Lance to find himself in, held tight and pressed against a wall without his permission, an unwanted tongue shoved into his mouth.

But it worse this time, and he knew why: Keith's supposed pursuit of him was not going to deter this Dom. And once everyone knew somebody had gotten around Keith and taken their turn with slutty McClain, there would be copy-cats.

He'd been so, _so_ stupid to think he could ever be free from this. So stupid to believe Keith would always be capable of protecting him. Lance knew Keith _wanted_ to - but that didn't mean he _could._

He'd mistaken wants for abilities, and this was where it landed him.

With a disgusting mouth pressed to his own unwilling one and -

And a hand, undoing the button of his jeans, reaching down his pants. He felt his own legs kicking out on instinct to push the other boy away, earning him a sharp, stinging slap to the face.

"You little fucker," the boy snarled. "Who the hell do you think you are, you little bitch? Take it like a good boy."

The hand gripping his hair pulled his head forward, then slammed it back into the wall with purposeful intensity. Lance choked on a cry of pain as black spots danced across his vision, the sharp ache spreading throughout his entire head.

And then, once the warning had been administered, the hand was back at his pants, shoving them down to his ankles and leaving him exposed. He heard the sound of the Dom's belt buckle being undone, and Lance knew.

He knew it was over. He had no chance. He'd _never_ had a chance. It was his own fault, really, for getting his hopes up with all that wishful thinking, making himself believe the universe would ever allow him more than a brief moment of happiness.

Lance did not have the energy to fight back anymore. He didn't even have the energy to cry. Or, quite frankly, to live.

He was done fighting. It wasn't worth it. Maybe it never had been.

Lance McClain was silent and still as number eight took their turn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ....in my defense...i did warn u to brace yourself


	23. i know it never will (it comes as no surprise)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I just want Keith. Please, I just want Keith.

_Where is Keith?_

Reality came to him in brief flashes, images burning into his memory between stretches of dark, painful nothing.

_Where is Keith? I need Keith._

The Dom boy groaned happily, teeth digging sharp into Lance's neck. He heard his own voice, sobbing, begging, felt his mouth moving, but it was not of his own accord. He was no longer in control. He was a passive observer, watching with neither judgement nor emotion.

_Keith. Keith. Please, help me._

"Such a good slut for me, aren't you? Fuck. Feels so good inside you, McClain. God, no wonder you're all anyone talks about."

_I don't want you don't want you get off get out get away I hate you leave me alone where's Keith I need Keith._

And suddenly, he _was_ alone, pants around his ankles and sharp pain found at various and very telling parts of his body. He was unfocused, hazy, unable to bring himself out of the nightmarish state of seeing but not being.

_I just want Keith. Please, I just want Keith._

There were hands on his shoulders, an unfamiliar face wearing concern and fear wavering above his. The mouth moved, but Lance's ears rang and the words were lost.

_Please help. Keith. I need Keith. Please help me, I need Keith._

The face turned to look at something else off to the side, mouth moving faster and more frantically, as if giving a command.

_I need him. Keith will help me. Keith will keep me safe. Keith is my friend. Please. I just want my friend._

Lance watched his own limbs writhing in protest as hands reached to bring his pants back up to his waist, then pulled his head to rest against a foreign, muscular shoulder.

_Please don't hurt me. I don't want to hurt anymore. I just want to die. Please, just let me die._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i  
> am  
> sorry


	24. one look puts the rhythm in my hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nothing could have prepared either of them for what they found.
> 
> Nothing could have prepared Keith to find his best friend and crush on the floor of an empty and dark classroom, back against the wall with his legs drawn up to his chest and his arms wrapped around them, entire body shaking as he sobbed into his knees and -
> 
> Oh, God.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here, look! it's a big ol' 2k+ pill #24 to contrast the last 3 tiny pills! that...that makes up for me torturing lance, right? you forgive me, don't you? :)
> 
> (vomit tw for this chapter. also rape tw but y'all been knew.)

"Shiro. I _told you_ , I'm not going to run again. I know there's nothing out there. You don't have to walk me to class."

(There absolutely _was_ something out there, something huge and important, something special. Something to do with his mother. He knew there was. But Shiro had heard it all before, so Keith wasn't going to bother.)

Shiro frowned at his side, giving him a sideways look that didn't quite meet Keith's eyes. "I trust you," he said, though Keith thought that was debatable. "I just...have a bad feeling, you know? I _want_ to walk you to class, just to...to make sure you're safe."

Keith shot him a disbelieving look. He sounded sincere enough, but obsessive concern was in the other parent's domain. And for the first time in a couple of weeks, Shiro had a class to substitute for; he really shouldn't have been wasting his time on this.

Shiro rolled his eyes at the look. "Adam isn't the only one who worries, okay? Humor me."

Keith fought the urge to point out that, as a near-adult Dom, it was technically _his_ responsibility to keep _Shiro_ safe. He knew his father well enough to know he'd be less than amused with that reasoning, regardless of logic.

"Fine," Keith heaved an intentionally dramatic sigh. "But you're gonna be bored. I'm way early."

Truth be told, Keith was pretty annoyed at Shiro's sudden insistence on 'making sure he was safe.' After being ditched for their study session the previous afternoon, Keith, too, had a bad feeling twisting in his stomach. He'd been hoping to talk to Lance alone.

He needed to make sure Lance hadn't been scared away for good by Adam's antics. He needed to tell Lance to not flee in fear when Adam asked to speak to him later that day, because he could be pleasantly surprised by what his Professor had to say. He needed to see Lance, to hug him, to breathe in the permanent scent of the ocean that lingered on his skin regardless of the fact that they were nowhere near one, and _know_ for himself that everything was alright.

Of course, it was unlikely Lance would be in first period twenty minutes early. But he was always at least a _few_ minutes early, that goody two-shoes. Keith could catch him when he first came in, and hopefully clear the air with him before the room got too crowded.

The halls were slowly filling around them, boarders shuffling out of the elevators and his fellow local students yawning with expensive coffees in-hand. Shiro leaned closer and lowered his voice.

"That's fine," Shiro said quietly. "I kind of wanted to talk to you about something, anyway."

And Keith's heart jumped into his throat just a little at that. Talk about _what?_

He'd listened to the hushed voices of his parents downstairs the evening before, trying to focus on his notepad and _not_ press his ear to the floor to listen in. It was something he'd done many a time, but a mature little voice in the back of his head whispered _Lance wouldn't like that, he would frown, he would tell you that's rude._ He was flooded with guilt when he considered doing it anyway. So he minded his own business, for once.

He ate dinner with his parents when Adam called him down nearly two hours later, making small talk about the upcoming mid-terms, graduation, and college. _Application submissions for S.A.A. reopen in October,_ Adam had told him eagerly, then even smiled a little when he carefully suggested, _Maybe, uh...maybe you should help Lance apply to some schools, too, since he's a boarder; his parents aren't around to help with that._

Keith had tried to keep his face neutral despite the butterflies doing backflips in his stomach - both with joy at the prospect of going to college _with Lance,_ and in appreciation for Adam's blatant attempt to be accepting of their friendship.

He finished his dinner and tried hard not to think about how hungry Lance must have been, since he'd avoided Keith for the rest of the day, meaning Keith hadn't been able to slip the usual snacks into his bag to substitute dinner. He huffed in fake annoyance right along with Adam when Shiro shooed them both out of the kitchen and insisted on doing the cleaning alone.

He put his earphones in on full blast later in the night when Shiro and Adam (who likely thought Keith was already asleep, since he typically was by that point) got a little too loud in their... _extra curricular activities,_ as Adam always so bashfully insisted on calling sex.

Keith had stayed awake for far longer than he should have, lying to himself that he just wanted to study. He wasn't even trying, really, and he knew it.

In honesty, he had a lot of trouble falling asleep. He was worried about Lance. To be fair, he worried about Lance constantly - but this was _different._ Something about the way he'd freaked out at something as admittedly simple as a distrustful gaze sent shivers down Keith's spine. He knew Lance was a more sensitive sub than most, certainly much more emotional and easily stirred than Keith was used to seeing in Shiro and other sub foster parents he'd had, but... _still._

Something told him this was more than just personality and temperament he was seeing in Lance. As he walked down the hall with Shiro, Keith found himself wondering, not for the first time, just how far Lance's situation with his family - and, specifically, his father - went.

It put a sick feeling in his stomach just thinking about it. Keith knew what abuse looked like; he'd lived it himself. He hoped against all hope that Lance didn't come from a similar situation, that he didn't suffer at home the way Keith had suffered - but the signs were all there.

_God._ Okay. Maybe it wasn't _him_ Shiro was so worried about, after all. Keith felt like he might have to stop off in a bathroom on the way to class and lose his breakfast. How hadn't he seen this before?

Shiro probably knew all the signs of abuse better than Keith did. It was taught in the mandatory classes that came before a fostering license, and he'd expertly helped Keith through his own mental health struggles during that first year or so. Sometimes still did, when Keith had a particularly bad day and some ugly shit from his past refused to leave him alone.

"Okay," Keith finally answered Shiro in a shaky voice, gulping. He pointedly ignored the knowing and worried look Shiro shot him. "Yeah. We, uh. We do need to talk, actually. I have...I have a few questions. About something."

Shiro nodded slowly. "Okay."

The light inside the classroom was still off when they arrived, darkness showing at the crack beneath the door in contrast to the light of the hall. Shiro made a point of putting himself forward and opening the door for Keith, showcasing his strong habit of doing so for any and all Doms.

Nothing could have prepared either of them for what they found.

Nothing could have prepared Keith to find his best friend and crush on the floor of an empty and dark classroom, back against the wall with his legs drawn up to his chest and his arms wrapped around them, entire body shaking as he sobbed into his knees and -

Oh, God.

_Oh, God._

Pants around his ankles. And, when both Keith and Shiro gasped in shock and rushed forward, hands outreached to help, something else caught his eye. Keith stopped short halfway across the room while Shiro continued, dropping in front of the younger sub and kindly asking him what had happened, if he was okay, could he look at him please.

Trace amounts of blood and what was clearly semen, smeared across the floor and the wall above Lance, as if - like he'd -

Like he'd been pressed to that wall against his will. Like the blood came from an injury Keith couldn't see from this position and did not want to.

There were a lot of things they didn't teach when they seperated Doms and subs into seperate groups for sex ed. But one thing they put a lot of emphasis on was sexual assault, given its unfortunate frequency. Specifically, the telltale warning signs that it had occurred or was occuring, and what it might potentially look like physically in both males and females.

_If you begin an intimate experience with your sub, and you notice anal or vaginal tears or other injuries near the anal or vaginal area - if you find unexplained blood on the laundry, specifically your sub's pants -_

_God._ God, no. No, no, _no._

"Lance? Kiddo, I'm here to help you. Can you hear me?" Shiro asked a hysterical Lance.

Keith's ears were ringing. He found himself on his knees in front of a small classroom trashcan with only the vaguest memory of putting himself there, and suddenly bile was racing up his throat as he wretched into the can. 

"It's Professor Shirogane; I'm your friend Keith's dad. I want to help, okay?"

Keith dry-heaved into the can once his stomach was empty, gut cramping painfully as he spit out small amounts of bile.

"Can you tell me what happened? Did somebody hurt you?"

He could hardly hear Shiro's voice, so very intentional in it's softness, his words, calm and comforting, though the flash of panic Keith had caught on his face as he rushed to Lance's side told him his father felt anything but calm.

"I know, sweetheart, I know. It's alright, Keith's right here. He's here for you. He's here."

And then Keith heard it, and he choked on a cry of anger and despair: Lance's voice, small and muffled, _I need Keith. Please help me, I need Keith._

"Keith! Keith, I know this sucks, and you're scared, and I'm so sorry, but you've gotta get it together, bud. Your friend needs you. I need you to sit with him so I can get help."

He couldn't. He couldn't move. He could hardly breathe. How was he supposed to help anyone like this?

"Lance, you're safe now, okay? Deep breaths, breathe with me, buddy. In. Out. Good job, there you go. You're safe now."

Lance's cries slowly lessened in volume and intensity, and Keith heard ragged, uneven breaths attempting to match Shiro's trembling but solid ones.

"We're going to help you. Keith and I are here, Lance. We want to help. Can I pull your pants up for you, Lance?"

His pants, down around his ankles, blood and semen on the floor and the walls because some _evil motherfucker thought they had the fucking right and they didn't, didn't, didn't._ God, he was going to kill them. He was going to _kill_ somebody today. Never thought he'd become a murderer, but desperate times, desperate measures.

"I'm not going to touch you. I'm a sub, too. I won't hurt you. You just deserve some privacy. Okay, buddy?"

He deserved more than privacy. He deserved love and to smile and to be safe. He deserved a rewind button. He deserved the entire fucking universe.

"Okay. Okay. Thank you, Lance. God, _shit._ Come here, I've got you. I've got you."

Shit was correct. Shit was exactly right.

_Oh, God._ Keith heaved into the can again, a dry sob falling from his mouth. He was pretty sure Lance was having an easier time breathing than he was at that point.

He realized, distantly, that Shiro was calling out to him, but he couldn't catch his breath to respond.

" _Keith._ Buddy, it's okay. Just stay calm, alright? Just go out and get somebody. Tell them we need someone from the medwing. Keith, are you okay?"

He wasn't okay. He wasn't okay. Was this what it felt like, when Lance had his panic attacks, terror coursing through his veins? Not being able to breathe? Was this _that?_

"You need to breathe, too, Keith. I know you're scared, I know it hurts to see this. I'm _so sorry_ you had to see this. But I need you to pull yourself together and come help me. _Shhh,_ Lance. I'm still here, kiddo. I've got you."

This wasn't fair. Lance didn't deserve to feel like this, _ever_ , unable to breathe or move or do anything but hurt. And what Keith felt was, he was sure, only a minimal fraction of the panic and horror Lance had to be feeling in that moment. Lance deserved better. This wasn't fucking _fair._

But Keith had never been acquainted with fairness.

And neither, apparently, had Lance.

"I know, Lance, it's okay. You're safe now, sweetheart. Keith is here. I'm here. We're going to help you. You're safe."

Was he, though?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know u guys want raging vengeful keith and it IS ON THE WAY, my outline promises it. but you also have to keep in mind that he's like...really just a kid. actually 10 months younger than lance in this story rather than 10 months older like in canon. so his first reaction to seeing his best friend and crush like that is going to be to go into shock/have a panic attack, not to immediately seek revenge. because if this happened to someone you love, realistically you would go into shock first, and the anger would not come until later when you were calmer and the reality of the situation had sunk in. PATIENCE YIELDS FOCUS. my emo son will be the angry boi soon.
> 
> i also want to remind y'all real quick that my tumblr is langst-wins (shameless self promo, i know, i'm a bitch, get used 2 it fam) because i'm actually planning on posting the official playlist for this story on there sometime today or tomorrow! if u already follow me u know i posted screenshots of the rough draft of the playlist a while back, but it's actually finished now and looks much different. 
> 
> the playlist is actually a big part of my inspiration in writing this. like literally every chapter title in this fic, if you haven't noticed, is a song lyric. and all the future ones will be, too. so if u listen to it, you'll recognize a lot of the lines as chapter titles. 
> 
> you can also (kinda? vaguely?) get some mild idea of how the rest of the story is going to play out from the playlist, if you're rlly desperate to see what happens next. so yeah. definitely check that out. i'll also link the playlist in the notes of an upcoming chapter, but i'll post it on my blog asap so you'll get it sooner.
> 
> also remember you will be getting another third chapter today in a few hours since it's the weekend!
> 
> srry for the long ass notes, my chatterbox adhd ass is rogue and unmedicated today. please ignore me and get on with ur saturday.


	25. face down in the dirt, he said "this doesn't hurt"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The arms around him tightened, holding him close. It was a foreign embrace. It wasn't the same as being hugged by Keith; it wasn't nearly as good or soothing. But it was safe. Lance did not protest.
> 
> "We're going to help you. I promise, we're going to help."

Lance jolted back into a fuzzy awareness when the strange man before him said Keith's name.

_Keith's dad,_ he was saying. Was this Keith's sub father? _Keith's here for you. He's here._

Lance's eyes searched the darkened room in desperation. The man was lying. He had to be. They were alone. Keith _wasn't_ here. God, he needed Keith. Where was he?

_I'm a sub, too. I won't hurt you._

That was nice and all, but it didn't change what had just happened to him, what had been happening for the past month. It did nothing to address how badly he wanted Keith.

Lance faded. He came back at some point - an hour later or ten seconds later, he had no clue - to his head lolling on the man's shoulder, two strong arms under his knees and back, lifting him in a bridal carry.

The bright lights of the halls were too harsh even against his closed eyelids. Lance wondered how long he'd been sitting alone in the dark before help found him. It couldn't have been too long. Wasn't first period starting soon?

He was going to be _so_ late. That wasn't good for his grades. Wasn't good for his scholarship. No scholarship meant no Garrison. No Garrison meant no Keith.

_Keith. Where is Keith?_

"You'll see him soon, buddy," the man's voice was clearer now, directly above him. Lance felt the vibrations from the older sub's throat against his forehead. "We're gonna get you some help first, okay? You need a doctor."

Why did he need a doctor? Was he bleeding that badly? It had never bled too much before. He'd rather sleep it off in his dorm than be poked and prodded by hands in plastic gloves. That was really unnecessary. Couldn't this man just let him go?

Time skipped again. He was sitting in an uncomfortable plastic chair. Or maybe he was only uncomfortable because he was _sitting,_ and the pain was sharp and clear.

"Can you tell us what happened?" The man - Keith's father - asked.

The waterworks grew stronger, pushing him to the brink of hysterics. Was that really him, falling forward onto the man's chest, sobbing? Was that his voice? _I didn't want to, I didn't want to, I never want to, they don't listen, please help me._

The arms around him tightened, holding him close. It was a foreign embrace. It wasn't the same as being hugged by Keith; it wasn't nearly as good or soothing. But it was safe. Lance did not protest.

"We're going to help you. I promise, we're going to help."


	26. well i'll tell you my friend, one day this world's going to end

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nothing was okay. Keith was beginning to doubt it ever would be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [here's the playlist i promised! ](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLX1bvSJv8aEYpkhYa0hHFT0Z81qZCB5rz)
> 
> this is the "official" playlist for this fic. if you listen to it, you'll recognize a lot of lyrics that are already chapter titles. the rest of the chapter titles will also be lyrics from this playlist. you can get a vague picture of how the rest of the story will play out, too, since the playlist goes in order of the plot's progression. the song we're "currently on" - aka, the song this chapter's title is from - is Face Down.
> 
> enjoy!

"Come on. You need to sit down somewhere."

Keith tried hard to remember the name of the sub boy who gripped his elbow, gently guiding him through the school to Adam's office. Leo? Something like that. It really wasn't the most important thing on his mind.

Because Lance had been raped. Lance had been raped. Lance had been raped.

If Keith had been there, it wouldn't have happened. If he'd asked to leave the house just twenty minutes sooner, Lance would be okay. Was this his fault? It felt like it.

Adam met them halfway, taking long strides, his face pale and eyebrows drawn. Leo let go as he approached. Adam's hands were firm on his shoulders in an instant.

"Son," he said in the lowest, most serious tone Keith had ever heard him use. "Campbell called. Where are they?"

Keith opened his mouth to respond, then closed it again. He didn't know. All he remembered after his own violent fit of sickness was Shiro asking a shellshocked Campbell to call Professor Wyler. Shiro throwing his son a hurried promise that Adam was going to come take him home and everything was going to be fine. Shiro lifting Lance off the ground with ease. Keith remembered stumbling into the hall to watch them leave, his vision swimming.

A crowd was gathering outside the door by the time someone had enough sense to pull Keith away from the scene. Campbell's strict voice held a note of confusion and hesitation as she announced that her class would be held in the library that day, and snapped at kids who were meant to be elsewhere for first period to get moving. Leo was dragging Keith down the hall before he could protest. Not that he had the energy to protest, anyways.

"I think Professor Shirogane took Lance to the medwing," Leo whispered at his side now. "He...he didn't look too good."

Adam started, as if he'd just realized the other teenager was there. One hand left Keith's shoulder to rest on Leo's.

"Thank you, Leo," Adam said sincerely. "Thank you for helping Keith. I appreciate it. You should get to class now."

Leo hesitated, shifting his weight. "Will Lance be okay?"

Adam paused, glancing between the two of them. Then he flashed the sub a strained smile. "I'm sure he will. I'll let you know, alright?"

"Okay," Leo mumbled. Adam's hand fell from his shoulder and he moved slowly down the hall, sparing a backward glance at the two of them as he went.

"Come on," Adam whispered, steering Keith into his office with a gentle grip.

Keith felt his hands beginning to shake as Adam encouraged him to take a seat in the old, worn out loveseat in the corner of his cramped office. The sudden cold throughout his body must have been obvious, because his father immediately pulled his larger coat off the back of his desk chair and draped it over the one Keith was already wearing. Keith stuffed his hands into the interior pockets, inhaling the familiar and comforting scent.

The large window that overlooked Adam's classroom was uncovered, and students were beginning to file in. Adam pulled the blinds shut when a few peered through the glass with curious frowns.

"Keith?" Adam said, kneeling in front of him and placing a hand on his knee. "I have to go talk to my class for a moment, but I'll be right back. Will you be okay?"

"Yeah," Keith said, flat, emotionless. Adam frowned.

"Alright," he said anyways. "I'll be back. Sit tight, okay? Take deep breaths."

_Take deep breaths_ was just about the least helpful advice he could have been given in that moment. Keith didn't respond.

He listened to Adam writing something on the board, the movement of a marker against the glowboard audible through the walls, and heard his muffled voice talking about _moving the test to next week_. His voice was almost immediately drowned out by shouts and cheers of relief.

Keith didn't understand how anybody in the world could have been happy in that moment. It felt as though the entire planet was obliviously deciding to keep on turning while he stood still, stuck, watching.

When Adam returned, he looked ten years older. He seemed to be bracing himself for some sort of physical impact as he sat stiffly on the couch next to Keith. Neither of the Doms made any attempt at platitudes.

"Keith," Adam said after a long few minutes. "I think there's something you should know."

Keith finally looked up at that, searching Adam's face for the answer he was so hesitant to share. All he found in his father's eyes was sorrow.

"What?" He asked. What could Adam tell him that would be worse than what had already happened? What could possibly surpass this?

Adam took a deep breath. He looked away from Keith's face. Definitely bracing for impact.

"There are some very recent videos of Lance that have been posted online," he said slowly, not seeing nor taking heed of his son's utter confusion. "I...they're...they've been posted on porn websites, and..."

"No." Keith said immediately. The realization of what Adam meant by that did not sink in, because he adamantly refused to let it. Refused to let this be the truth. "No, there aren't."

" _Keith_...I don't think this was the first time."

"That's not true." Keith shook his head firmly. "That's not fucking _funny_ , Adam, stop it."

But Adam was not laughing. His eyes were starting to glisten. Keith had never once, in all these years, seen Adam _cry._ And the way Lance was always flinching, and crying over the smallest things, a scared, emotional wreck - all the signs Keith thought were pointing to abuse at home -

"I need to see the videos." The words slipped out past numb lips. Adam's eyes widened. He shook his head. "I need to see who did this to who him."

"No," Adam said firmly, with no room for argument, even though his voice wavered with emotion. "No, Keith. You don't need to see him like that. Don't you think enough people have?"

Keith was silent, eyes trained on his shoes. He pulled Adam's coat tighter around himself. If he could just _hear the voices_ of the Doms who had forced themselves on Lance, he would have names. He would know. He could _do_ something. Otherwise...

Otherwise, he was entirely powerless.

If there was one thing Keith refused to be, it was powerless.

But Keith was getting used to lying to his parents. He lied about not being interested in his research anymore nearly every single day. Words that used to fill him with guilt now slipped out easily.

With Lance's life and health hanging in the balance, it was even easier.

"Fine," Keith lied through teeth that chattered with an imagined cold. He wondered when the emotion would hit him, when the feeling would return to his fingers. Was this shock? "I won't watch them. But somebody needs to."

"The authorities will," Adam promised. "The medwing will have to report this. Let the police and the administration do their jobs; they'll figure this out."

"Okay."

_Nothing_ was okay. Keith was beginning to doubt it ever would be.


	27. as your lies crumble down, a new life he has found

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I managed to get ahold of his family," the sweet nurse who'd been helping them said from the doorway.
> 
> "And?"
> 
> The nurse bit nervously on her lip. Her hands gripped the edges of the door. She didn't quite meet his eyes. That feeling was stirring in Shiro's stomach again, a heavy anxiety weighing him down.
> 
> "It was his father," she said quietly. "His response was...less than ideal."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> enjoy!!

Shiro sat with the weight of the world pressing heavy on his shoulders as he watched Lance McClain turn fitfully in his sleep.

He _knew._

He knew something was wrong, knew something fishy was happening with Keith's friend. Something atypical about the videos he'd supposedly posted of himself.

Shiro might have expected to find that Lance was simply looking for love in the wrong places. He might have expected there to be underlying motivations like bullying, or mental health issues, or loneliness and insecurity.

But not one of his ponderings factored in the unfathomable idea of Lance being an unconsenting party.

He would never have expected _this._

"I managed to get ahold of his family," the sweet nurse who'd been helping them said from the doorway. Shiro started, not expecting her to have returned so soon (he didn't expect a lot of things, apparently.) He would think such a call would be a long conversation with tears and questions and comforting platitudes. She'd barely been gone three minutes.

"And?" He asked in a whisper, shooting a glance at the sleeping teen whose face twitched, lips trembling, eyebrows drawn.

The nurse bit nervously on her lip. Her hands gripped the edges of the door. She didn't quite meet his eyes. That feeling was stirring in Shiro's stomach again, a heavy anxiety weighing him down.

"It was his father," she said quietly. "His response was...less than ideal."

For a brief moment, Shiro felt the same sorrow and compassion that had twisted in his chest when he found out about Keith's abuse. It was gone in a flash, but the familiar instinct of a foster parent to hold and heal was not lost on him.

Something in the nurse's hesitant words told him Lance would certainly not be getting any healing from his family.

"What did he say?" He asked, uncertain whether or not he really wanted to know.

"He said...he said his son just needs to 'learn to keep his legs closed.'"

Fury boiled inside of Shiro, searing through his veins and setting him ablaze. The intensity of his own anger took him by surprise. Was  _this_ how it felt when Doms became enraged over the safety of their subs? It felt like the flames of hell itself were spreading beneath his skin, traveling to his hands where the fire begged to be unleashed in explosive violence.

But the anger was soon set on the back burner, simmering in silence, as a new emotion took hold: helplessness.

What could he do? The police had been notified, and the school was now well aware of the situation. Lance's family clearly wanted no part in any of it. There was...nothing else  _to_ do. Nothing else to do but be a shoulder to cry on, if Lance wanted one (and even if he did, Shiro was sure he would prefer Keith, if Lance's constant, babbling stream of his name in his dazed state had meant anything.)

Shiro was helpless. He had never been a weak sub and was determined he never would be, but in that moment, he felt exactly two inches tall.

And then the thought struck him.

His eyes, which had fallen downcast to the floor, now shot up to look at the nurse, startling her. "How old is he? Lance, I mean. Is he eighteen?"

"Yes," the nurse said slowly. She glanced at the boy in question, then back at Shiro, confusion evident.

"So he's not obligated to stay on campus?" Shiro asked. His voice rose a couple of notes in hope. "He doesn't have to board?"

"Um, well," the nurse shifted her weight awkwardly. "You'd have to check with administration, but I believe's he's free to live off-campus, yes."

Lance was attending on a full scholarship and did not rely on his parents to pay tuition, according to Keith's occassional, mindless rambling about his friend - _and_ he was eighteen.

His father - a disgusting, uncaring man, as it turned out - had no say in whether or not he lived on-campus. His family had no say in his life anymore,  _period._ Not if Lance didn't want them to.

The nurse was watching Shiro with curious eyes, looking like she was finally catching his drift. Lance stirred more actively on the cheap medwing bed, the last tendrils of sleep losing their grip on him.

Shiro nodded resolutely.

"He's coming home with me."


	28. i can't drown my demons (they know how to swim)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One voice was ugly and internal. One was real and warm, the vibrations of a deep timbre felt against Lance's shoulder where Shiro rested his chin in the embrace.
> 
> One was painful, searing, hellfire come back to haunt him. One was a healing balm on the burns.
> 
> They couldn't both be true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this pill is a yummy cherry flavor. and not the deceptive cherry medicine where you think it's gonna taste good and then it's nasty af. the kind that ACTUALLY tastes like cherry. the honest yummy cherry medicine
> 
> (aka this is that delicious comfort you've all been craving and it actually ends on a positive note instead of internal anguish)
> 
> enjoy!

When he opened his eyes next, the world was clear again.

This was how all the days-after in the past had gone, after nights rife with agony and terror. He would spend the night in a haze, soul disconnected from his body to float somewhere up in the atmosphere - he liked to think his spirit knew better than to stay where the pain was strongest. It was a poetic spin on senseless violence, at the very least.

Then he would open his eyes the next day, back on the planet and whole again. Damaged, of course, with wounds that went so much deeper than the physical and left ugly scars only he could see. But whole.

Being left in one piece was really the best he could hope for anymore.

But this wasn't a day-after, he quickly remembered. The memories were vague and fuzzy; they did not hit him too harshly, and he thanked whatever deity might be out there for small miracles. They were not dense enough to hurt. It almost felt like it could have been a dream.

Almost. He knew better than to believe in such wishful thinking.

He remembered the boy who had threatened him the night before, coming back to finish him off. The pain, the fear, the silent prayers begging for death to find him (though that part was nothing new.) Keith's sub father finding him in the darkened classroom, carrying him to the medwing, holding him and promising to help.

And the memories might not have crashed on arrival, but the understanding of what they meant might as well have been a brick to the head.

Because this meant his secret was out.

_Everybody knows,_ Lance realized, heart pounding unevenly in his chest. And then, that disappointment was overwhelmingly drowned out by a roaring devastation: _Keith knows._

"Lance?"

That voice, so vaguely familiar, called his name hesitantly, as if he was a small child and not a young adult. Lance still flinched, eyes flying open to stare blankly at the ceiling. Familiar, yes. But that wasn't Keith. God, he still _really_ wanted Keith.

He looked slowly to the side, uncertain who he would find. Lance flinched once again, but not out of fear this time. He was just...entirely _floored_ to see that it was Keith's dad.

Or, more accurately, to see that Keith's dad had found him in a sorry state, promised to help him, and actually... _stayed_. Not just stayed, but took vigil at his bedside, waiting patiently for him to wake. _Helping_ , just like he said he would.

He was sitting in a cheap plastic chair, watching Lance sleep with a sad look on his face and his shoulders hunched. The chair was positioned intentionally - close enough to be available if Lance needed him, but far enough away to give him some much-needed space and not look like a looming threat.

The man looked deeply troubled. Despite the fact that the clock on the wall read just past eleven A.M., there were dark bags under his eyes. Lance was certain he hadn't looked so ragged earlier. It was as if he was genuinely upset that his son's best (and only) friend had been brutally raped. Almost as if he _cared_ , somehow, for some ridiculous reason.

Like father, like son.

_Can't believe he's staying for a slut like you, can't believe he wants to help, why should he bother, you pathetic piece of shit, take care of your goddamn self he's a grown man he doesn't have time for your childish games stop begging for attention he has better things to do you disgusting whore-_

" _Lance._ Buddy. Come back to me, okay?"

The man was suddenly up from his chair, kneeling beside the bed, a warm hand placed softly on Lance's shoulder. Different from Keith, not as good, just like the hug, but still far from unpleasant. Still nice.

Lance hadn't noticed, until now, his own pattern of breath growing so harsh. After so many wonderful days of freedom, he forgot how bad the panic was when he couldn't believe self-soothing thoughts of _it won't happen again, Keith won't let it_. He forgot how he could hyperventilate in an instant, getting lost in his own thoughts. How ugly and _mean_ his own mind could be.

That voice was somehow easier to kick away this time, though. The man called Lance back into reality, and the little demon fled. He could practically see Keith's worried frown, feel Keith's hand on his shoulder, hear the soft way he would speak to Lance if he were to be told about all the nasty things that voice said to him.

_Bullshit_ , Keith would say if he knew. _Absolute fucking bullshit, don't listen to it._

So he didn't.

"I'm here," Lance mumbled. He offered a weak, sad smile. It was not intended as a symbol of happiness, because he so clearly wasn't happy, but rather as an assurance of _I'm not about to fall apart, I'm okay for now, don't worry_. He watched as the man's face shifted into something more relaxed.

The older sub's calm was forced. He was trying to make himself appear friendly, Lance could tell, but the soft undertone of despair was still there.

"Nice to meet you, here. I'm Shiro."

Lance blinked.

Did he really just... _wow._

"That's the lamest dad joke _ever_ ," he whispered. His sad smile maybe, sort of, kind of, turned into a little bit of an amused one. "Keith really wasn't kidding."

The man - _Shiro_ \- looked genuinely surprised. "Keith talks about me?"

"Sometimes. Professor Wyler, too. He...Keith said you like to tell stupid dad jokes. And that Ad - Professor Wyler is a huge nerd."

"He _complains_ about my _jokes_? Seriously?" Shiro huffed incredulously. "Does he say anything _nice_ about us?"

"Yeah." And Lance's smile grew, just a little, in spite of the constant undercurrent of agony humming in his very soul. It was nice to pretend, just for a minute, that he was alright, to be funny with someone the way he was with Keith. "He says you're helicopter parents. I don't know what that means, but it sounds like a compliment. Helicopters are cool, right?"

He found it absurd, actually, how easy it was to get into such normal banter with this guy. He remembered Keith telling him his fathers used to foster before they adopted him, and he wondered if Shiro had mastered the art of distractive humor through instruction or experience.

Shiro sputtered in false indignance. He was smiling a small grin, too. "Keith and I will be having _words_ tonight. Sorry my kid's such a brat. Are all your friends like that, or just him?"

And that was went sent Lance's mildly decent-ish mood crashing down in an instant. That was okay. He knew it wouldn't have lasted, anyway.

Tears were pricking at his eyes all of a sudden. He couldn't have pinpointed exactly what it was that set him off.

It could have been the way this Shiro guy assumed Lance actually _had_ other friends. Maybe he felt a crushing weight of loneliness from the unintentional reminder that Keith was all he had, that nobody else cared. Or maybe he was just relieved to know that some people didn't automatically write him off as a friendless loser. His emotions were all so tangled that it was impossible to differentiate between the two.

"I don't have other friends," Lance said numbly. His felt his own face growing hard and cold, felt his heart closing up, curling in on itself in self-preservation. The tears that began to fall, then, were a contrast to his tense, stony attitude. "Keith is - he's it. He's all I have."

Shiro was no longer smiling, either. His mournful look was back in place.

"I'm sorry," Shiro said sincerely. He gently nudged Lance's shoulder, and Lance looked back at him. "I was trying to make you laugh, not cry. Guess I'm a little out of practice with this."

_With what?_ Lance wanted to ask. _With trying to heal damaged kids? Trying to piece back together unfixable puzzles with missing pieces? Is that what you're trying to do to me? Good luck._

He didn't dare verbalize such rude questions. Shiro was doing more for him than any adult had done in a very long time. Copping an attitude was not the way to repay him.

Instead, Lance settled for a short, "It's fine. Thank you for helping me. When can I leave?"

"I...that depends. Where did you want to go?"

"My dorm?" Lance looked up at the ceiling, watching the light flicker faintly. "Class? I don't know. This is a boarding school medwing, 's not exactly for long-term care. I don't need to see an outside doctor or anything, do I?"

Shiro opened his mouth, inhaled, then paused. He took a moment to place his hand on Lance's forearm before he spoke, his movements slow and deliberate, likely to avoiding catching Lance off guard and scaring him. _Joke's on you, pal. I'm scared of everything._

"The school doctor looked you over while you were asleep. You didn't need stitches, but you're gonna have to take it easy for a while. And..."

Lance's stomach churned. He didn't like the sound of that _and._

"And what?"

"They called home. Your home, that is. Your father. And, um -"

"Let me guess, he didn't give a shit? Said being raped eight times and constantly molested is somehow my fault?"

Shiro was silent and dumfounded when Lance looked to gauge his reaction. Lance quirked an eyebrow at him, maybe a little too impatiently. Shiro didn't seem to mind. He snapped his open jaw closed.

"You were expecting that, I guess," Shiro said weakly. Lance nodded.

"Yeah. Nothing new."

He shouldn't have been spilling all of this out to Keith's father. These were things he'd only ever told _Keith._

Keith, who surely knew, as did the whole school by now, judging by the speed at which gossip tended to spread. Everyone knew he was too much of a weak, spineless slut to say no. Everyone knew he'd been used, repeatedly. Everyone knew he was dirty and broken.

_Keith_ knew he was dirty and broken. And that hurt more than anything. Would he still want to be Lance's friend? How far did his generosity extend?

_I don't care about my reputation,_ Keith had told him only a few days before this shit-show. _It's stupid to care so much what a bunch of other dumbass teenagers think. I'd be more concerned if these idiots_ did _like me._

Did he care so little about his reputation that he wouldn't mind being seen with the lowest of the low? Lance felt horribly guilty for hoping Keith really _wouldn't_ mind. Keith deserved better than the disgusting likes of him.

"I have a question," Shiro said after a long few minutes of tense, awkward silence, pulling Lance out of his head again before he could bury himself too deeply in the chaos there. Lance looked at him with tired eyes. What else was there to say? Couldn't they be done? He wanted to go back to his dorm and sleep. Mentally prepare himself for the inevitable number nine.

But Shiro looked him dead in the eyes, as if he had his mind set on something very important. Lance felt obligated to pay attention. "You're on a scholarship, and, uh, you're eighteen. So you don't have to stay on campus if, you know, you don't want to." He paused to take a deep breath. "Would - would you maybe like to - come stay with us?"

Lance, for the second time that day, fell into the chest of this dude he barely knew, sobbing.

Two strong but perpetually gentle hands soothed his back and hair, arms holding him close as if he might disappear.

_He doesn't mean it. He just feels bad, seeing a pathetic piece of shit like you in pain. He pities you. You're pitiful._

"You're not safe here," Shiro said. "That's not right, kiddo. You deserve to live in a place where you feel safe - where you _are_ safe."

_It won't last long. They're going to get so sick of you, so soon, and they'll drop you just like everyone else._

"It's a guest room, but there's no time limit on this, okay? You can stay as long as you want. You know - _if_ you want to."

_Keith wouldn't want you there. Keith doesn't like you anymore, now that he knows how gross you are. I bet he was disgusted when he saw you like that, saw how weak you are. He might have been starting to want you, might have been considering it, but he sure as hell doesn't want you now. Nobody does. Who would ever claim a useless sub like you?_

"It would make us all feel better, knowing you're safe. It would make Keith feel better. He's...he was pretty shaken up earlier. My son _really_ cares about you, Lance. I hope you know that."

One voice was ugly and internal. One was real and warm, the vibrations of a deep timbre felt against Lance's shoulder where Shiro rested his chin in the embrace.

One was painful, searing, hellfire come back to haunt him. One was a healing balm on the burns.

They couldn't both be true.

"Please, buddy, let us help you. You need help. Don't do this alone."

Lance, ever the wishful thinker, chose to believe the one he liked better.

Why not? Everything had already been ripped so violently away from him. What did he have left to lose?

"Okay." Lance hiccuped through his sobs and heaving breaths. Shiro's hand rubbed firm, soothing circles on his back, fingers carding through his hair, voice offering a soft _shhh_ near Lance's ear. "Okay."

"Yeah?" Shiro asked in a hopeful whisper. "Would that be okay?"

"Yeah. 'S more than okay. I'm... _thank you_. Thank you."

"Don't thank me, Lance. Somebody should have helped you a long time ago, and I'm so sorry nobody did. I'm _so_ sorry. You deserve to be safe."

_You deserve to be safe._

And for the first time in his life, Lance believed it.


	29. i've got a list of names (and yours is in red, underlined)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith didn't want to do it.
> 
> It was the last thing in the world he wanted to do.
> 
> These videos were also the last things in the world Lance had wanted to do, and he was never given any say in the matter.
> 
> Keith didn't want to do it - but for Lance, he would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oooohhh…

The videos weren't difficult to find.

Keith was supposed to be spending his morning home from school sleeping off the shock, per Adam's orders, but there was no way in hell he was going to be able to sleep again any time soon. So instead, he searched.

He found them linked on a random sophomore Dom's profile. He had to spend ten minutes catching his breath and trying not to dry-heave again before he could even work up the nerve to click the first link, but he found them.

His rage blindsided him, as it usually did, when that first frozen image popped up on the screen with a play button hovering above it. There was his friend's face, on full display, right along with everything else.

Lance looked _terrified._

The view counts were in the thousands. All except for the most recent one, posted a mere two hours ago, with a thumbnail displaying Lance pressed against a wall Keith wished he didn't recognize.

How had thousands of people watched these and not seen the blatant _fear_ on this young sub's face? How had they watched these, enjoyed them, and gone obliviously on with their lives?

How many of these viewers _knew_?

How many of them were Doms at the Garrison, brushing shoulders with Keith in the hall every single day, who _knew_ that their classmates and friends had raped a sub and chosen not to report it? Chosen to get off on the recordings of Lance's suffering and -

Keith's hands shook. He dropped the graviphone onto his mattress as if it burned. The earphones were yanked from his head.

He had to break something. He had to break some _body_.

But he couldn't. Adam was home. And even if he wasn't, Keith would have no way of explaining later why he'd shattered the bathroom mirror when he should have been asleep without admitting he'd disobeyed Adam's direct order to _not_ watch the videos.

All he could do was watch - and write.

A sheet of physical paper (because there was no way he was going to leave the evidence of this saved on his phone or notepad) and one of Adam's red pens sat on the bed beside him. Adam didn't use the pens, of course; he kept them around for decoration and novelty. An "old-fashioned teacher's inside joke" or some stupid shit like that.

He uncapped the pen and held it in his trembling left hand. His index finger hovered over the play button, over Lance, scared and confused and _hurt._

Keith didn't want to do it.

It was the last thing in the world he wanted to do.

These videos were also the last things in the world Lance had wanted to do, and he was never given any say in the matter.

Keith didn't want to do it - but for Lance, he would.

He turned the bedroom light off to make his nap allibi more believable, put the earphones back in, and watched.

A list of eight names was made, bright red stark against a crisp white paper.

Never again.


	30. there's bones in my closet but you hang stuff anyway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe...maybe that hadn't really been Keith last night. It was entirely possible, he thought, that his brain had thrown him a bone after the nightmare and allowed him to imagine a more comforting scenario.
> 
> And the more Lance thought about it, the more he was certain that had to be the case. Running to soothe a friend down from the ledge of a nightmare and back into the safety of sleep didn't seem like a very Keith thing to do. That boy had approximately the same emotional expressivity as a walnut.

It was the sound of his own screams that tore him out of a fitful sleep.

His head was buzzing, brain not fully awake, and yet adrenaline pumped through his veins with a frightening intensity. He was fairly certain his heart was about to beat right out of his chest. Or maybe give out completely. Memories he already knew like the back of his hand did not find enough joy in haunting his daytime - they always followed him into sleep, too.

The scenario was an all too familiar one. Lance knew it well. He was going to scream and cry for a little while, but he would, eventually, fall back asleep. When he woke in the morning, he would have only a fuzzy recollection of his post-nightmare panic.

But that wasn't how it happened this time.

This time there were footsteps down a hardwood floor. This time there was a weight settling on the bed beside him. This time there were arms around him, squeezing him impossibly tight, and somehow the complete restraint of his limbs did not worsen his panic - it calmed him.

The chin resting on his head moved, and Lance was pleasantly surprised to hear his favorite sound.

"It's fine. You're safe here. Just breathe."

_Keith._

Lance relaxed bonelessly against him. His cries of terror tapered off into whimpers and sniffles. Keith held him, repeating stupid platitudes that Lance would have loathed to hear coming from anybody else.

His still half-asleep mind fogged up once again, and leaden eyelids drooped. He was so _tired._  

"Then go back to sleep. It was just a bad dream, alright?"

Keith.

"I won't let anything happen to you. Never again."

_Keith._

"Yeah, it's me. I'm here. Just go to sleep."

Lance did.

* * *

The next time he woke, sunshine was blaring at him from the sides of the curtains in an unfamiliar room.

The way he'd gotten there was a blur, but he at least had enough memory to get the gist of it.

Shiro taking him home a mere couple of hours after dropping the bombshell of an offer, but not before making a brief stop at Lance's dorm, saying _just take what you'll need tonight, we'll come back and get the rest later._

What Lance hadn't told Shiro was that there was no need to come back later. The few belongings he had that he would need for the night were basically everything he owned. Anybody who stepped into Lance's dorm not knowing it belonged to him might have thought it was out of service for the year. It looked exactly the same as every other bleak, impersonal, unused Garrison room.

Shiro must have seen the blank slate quality of the room from his place in the doorway, but he didn't comment on it. He only gave Lance a kind smile as they got into the car with his small overnight bag of clothing and toiletries.

The living room, Lance remembered from the brief moment he'd spent in it, was surprisingly cozy, and Adam had accepted his arrival with an unexpected warmth. _You're more than welcome here_ , the Professor told him. _Keith is asleep. You should get some rest, too._

Lance had absolutely no objections. He collapsed in the bed, still wearing his uniform, shoes and all, the second Shiro opened the door to the guest room.

He pressed his face into the pillow, and Shiro must have mistakenly thought he was already sound asleep, because Lance then had to fight back tears of pure shock and joy when Shiro gently tugged his shoes off, draped the covers overtop of his still form, and turned out the lights. The door, he noticed, was left halfway open.

He must have slept through the second half of the day entirely, because he'd woken up well into the night with terror searing through his veins, screaming certainly loud enough to wake all three of his hosts.

He found his poisoned, unwell brain once again tangled in the grey space between reality via memory and just-a-bad-dream - only to soon thereafter find Keith's arms around him, Keith's hand in his hair, Keith's voice soothing him back to sleep.

Lance pulled himself slowly into a sitting position now, wincing at the aches and soreness he felt throughout his body despite the heavenly nature of the surface beneath him. He'd forgotten what it felt like to sleep in a _real_ bed after weeks of a paper-thin Garrison mattress.

He didn't have to imagine how much more painful this day-after would be if he'd spent seventeen hours sleeping on a Garrison mattress instead. He knew from experience. Experience times seven, to be exact.

Lance pushed himself back against the headboard, the pillow propped there supporting his aching lower back. He drew his legs up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, resting his chin on his knees. Anxiety was beginning to churn inside of him.

Maybe...maybe that _hadn't_ really been Keith last night. It was entirely possible, he thought, that his brain had thrown him a bone after the nightmare and allowed him to imagine a more comforting scenario.

And the more Lance thought about it, the more he was certain that had to be the case. Running to soothe a friend down from the ledge of a nightmare and back into the safety of sleep didn't seem like a very _Keith_ thing to do. That boy had approximately the same emotional expressivity as a walnut.

Regardless, that was...a _really_ nice dream. Lance was saddened to realize the smaller details of it were fading from his memory the longer he spent awake. He closed his eyes, lips pursed tight, and held onto the last tendrils of memory _dream_ whatever, smoke-like and elusive as they teased him into chasing after their trails.

Was anybody else awake yet? What time was it? There was no clock in the room, and he had no clue where his phone had gone. Lance didn't know what he was supposed to do, awake in a house that belonged to his best friend's parents, who he hardly knew.

A house he now lived in.

Lance sat there, curled up small in a large bed, resting his head on his knees but not sleeping. He willed himself to believe in such a miracle as Keith still being his friend, still wanting him, still caring enough to deliver him from the throes of terror, to hold and hush him into more peaceful rest.

He daydreamed, and waited.


	31. we both know all the truth i could tell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takashi Shirogane was not a man of anger. He didn't often raise his voice, nor did he lose his temper. He couldn't remember the last time he'd yelled at anybody (if he ever had.) He never felt the need to.
> 
> But he was yelling now. He was absolutely losing his temper. And he was very, very angry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yo....random note....when I say this story has been outlined I don't mean I just have a lil picture in my head of how its gonna go...I mean EVERYTHING is already planned and set in stone...like extensively, with index cards color coded by subplot...I love y'all but plz don't go asking me to change things about the story. I rlly cant and even if I could, I wouldn't want to, I have everything set up just right so that all loose ends will be tied. you're more than welcome to make predictions and i'm so so SO appreciative of your interest in this story, but plz don't leave suggestions asking me to change things.
> 
> that being said....enjoy pill 31!!

"This is absolute _bullshit_ and you _know_ it!"

Takashi Shirogane was not a man of anger. He didn't often raise his voice, nor did he lose his temper. He couldn't remember the last time he'd yelled at anybody (if he ever had.) He never felt the need to.

But he was yelling now. He was absolutely losing his temper. And he was very, _very_ angry.

Keith was rubbing off on him more and more every day. Shiro was pretty sure they were doing this backwards. Wasn't the parent supposed to influence the child?

Iverson leaned forward on the desk and folded his hands together, heaving a sigh. He was the very picture of condescendence and it was _enraging._

"Need I remind you that you're speaking to somebody who could fire you on the spot?"

"Oh, _please_. You know you would be losing me and Adam both. You're not going to take that chance in the middle of the semester."

"I don't know what you expect me to do," the man said, his one good eye narrowed in warily on Shiro. "I can't just expel an entire handful of students based on an accusation. How do you know this sub kid isn't just looking for attention?"

Shiro grit his teeth together. "If you'd been there, you wouldn't need to ask how I know. Believe me, I _know._ And I'm not asking you to expel anybody."

"Then what exactly are you proposing, Professor Shirogane?"

"Legal action."

Iverson winced like the words were a physical pain to him.

"I doubt the school's lawyers would want to be involved in something like this," he said. "And if they did, they'd probably take the sides of these Doms, so that suggestion is not quite in your favor."

"Then _I'll_ find one who will take Lance's side," Shiro hissed. "And trust me, your school will regret the way it's handling this situation once the public catches onto what's been happening behind closed doors."

"You have no solid evidence that this boy wasn't consensually involved in these experiences, or that a single law has been broken, Professor." Iverson was clearly growing frustrated, but he still held a hint of amusement in his tone. He sounded like a parent explaining to a toddler why cookies before dinner was not a very good idea. "No court of law would take such a case seriously. It's not exactly scandal material."

"You're making a mistake."

There was no way in _hell_ Shiro was about to sit back and let the young men and women who had essentially been torturing Lance get off scot-free. If the school wasn't going to take legal action, then he and Adam would. He was absolutely not going to let this go without a fight.

But he did have to calm himself down. Shiro had a feeling Adam would be less than impressed by him getting into a fist fight with their boss.

"I will not be changing my position on this, Shirogane," Iverson said.

"Then I guess one of us is about the learn something the hard way."

"Yes. I suppose you are."


	32. arrogant boy, love yourself so no one has to

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I failed you, Lance. A lot of people did, but especially me. And for that, I'm very, very sorry."

It was the strangest feeling in the world, Adam thought, to sit in absolute silence with a pounding headache.

He got headaches when his class was being loud and obnoxious. He got headaches when a frantic, worried-sick Takashi woke him in the middle of the night to tell him Keith was gone again, bed empty and window open.

A headache in the midst of peace was entirely unusual.

Of course, that was to say, there was _auditory_ peace. Their lives over the past twenty-four hours had been anything but peaceful.

Everything became a whirlwind of chaos after that heart-stopping call from Campbell, informing him in a very clipped way that _there appears to have been a sexual assault carried out against a student. Your sub is taking him to the medwing for medical attention. Also, your son is highly emotional and vomiting profusely, please come and retrieve him immediately._

Nobody had to tell him that the student in question was Lance McClain. Adam heard _highly emotional and vomiting profusely_ , and he knew.

Keith was not a highly emotional person. Nor was he a sympathy puker - or a sympathy anything, really. In such a scenario, Adam would expect him to be calm and steady, the voice of reason admist Takashi's panic, assisting in any and every way possible. Keith might not always act his age, but the kid was damn good in a crisis.

Keith being so horribly upset in that scenario was a clear sign he had an emotional attachment to the victim. And Keith only had an emotional attachment to one very specific Garrison student.

Adam couldn't say he was surprised when Takashi finally responded to his five missed calls with a text that simply read _he's coming home with me_ , nor did he have any reason to object.

To make a long story short, that afternoon found Adam to be the only awake being in a house that four now occupied. Takashi took an accidental nap of his own, curled up on the couch beneath a blanket his Dom tenderly tucked around him, eyes red from crying - which was a rare thing for his sub - into Adam's chest as he verbally recounted the events of the previous six hours.

Adam was now once again the only one awake in the house. Keith and Takashi had left for school early. One to speak with administration in regards to what steps they were planning on taking in the aftermath of all this, and the other tagging along with the intention of "clearing his head" in a quiet library. Takashi, who had no classes scheduled for the day, promised to be back before Adam needed to leave so their new charge wouldn't have to be alone.

Said charge was still going strong on eighteen hours of sleep in the guest bedroom - which, really, couldn't be called a guest bedroom anymore.

Adam rubbed a hand down his face from where was slumped on a stool at the breakfast counter, and he caught a glimpse of the time on the oven. He really should wake Lance up. Lord knew the poor boy deserved a good rest, but he also needed something to eat and a real shower - he remembered Takashi telling him they'd cleaned him up as best they could after sedating him in the school's medwing, but there was only so much a sponge bath could do.

There wasn't much Adam could do to ease Lance's suffering. He knew that, and his heart was heavy with it. If all he could offer was a soft bed, a hot shower, and a good meal, then so be it.

He just wasn't looking forward to waking the kid up.

He hoped Lance was, at least, not a heavy sleeper. Experience with six different foster children told him that shaking awake a freshly traumatized person often ended in panic attacks and tears (and a nosebleed for Adam from a rogue fist, in one specific instance he preferred not to recall.)

But much to Adam's surprise, Lance was not asleep at all when he carefully peered into the kid's new room through a still half-open door.

He was instead pressed into the corner where the headboard met the wall, legs drawn to his chest and arms wrapped around them, chin resting on his knees. His thousand yard stare was unsettling. 

Adam knocked lightly on the door before taking a few hesitant steps inside. Lance flinched harshly, inhaling sharp and loud through his nose. He didn't relax when his gaze landed on Adam. He only averted his eyes to the disturbed bedsheets and twisted his intertwined fingers together in what appeared to be a nervous habit.

Adam cleared his throat. "Um - good morning. I didn't know you were awake."

Lance shrugged. His eyes fell somewhere near Adam, but not quite on him.

"Haven't been for long," he whispered. "I just...didn't know what to do. It's not my house."

"Well..." Adam frowned. "It  _is_ now, though, isn't it?" Lance merely shrugged again in response. "You aren't confined to this room, son. You're not our prisoner."

"Okay." Lanced paused. "Sorry."

"What are you apologizing for?"

"For needing to be here," the boy said, eyes suddenly getting misty, and Adam could have sworn he felt a physical ache in his heart. "For getting in the way. Interrupting your lives. Everything."

Adam paused. They didn't exactly write about "what to do when a sad teenager mistakenly thinks he's a burden on your life and family" in all those fostering guidebooks.

Verbal reassurance seemed like a good start.

He took a seat at the foot of the bed, far enough away that Lance wouldn't feel threatened having a Dom in close proximity.

"You haven't gotten in the way of anything," Adam said in that gentle but simultaneously no-room-for-argument tone he liked to think he'd mastered over the years. "You're more than welcome in our home. Shiro wouldn't have made the offer if you weren't. We _want_ to help you, alright? All three of us do."

Lance nodded, gaze still downcast. His fingers had gone from twisting together to fiddling with the size too big, rumpled Garrison uniform they'd likely replaced his own with while he was unconcious in the medwing. He looked far from convinced.

It wasn't until Adam scooted a mere foot closer to the boy, reaching out a hand with the intention of laying it on his shoulder, that he realized with a rush of guilt what a big part of Lance's current problem was.

Because he flinched violently for the second time in the past two minutes when Adam's hand neared him. He hadn't acted so cut-off with Takashi the day before. In fact, he'd been leaning into Takashi's side as he stumbled tiredly through the front door, and the strong arm the older sub had around his shoulder certainly hadn't bothered him.

He'd seen how close Lance and Keith sat sometimes at lunch. Seen the small smile on Lance's face when Keith flicked, elbowed, and nudged him playfully.

Lance's problem wasn't with the fact that Adam was an unfamiliar Dom. Takashi was unfamiliar. Keith was a Dom.

Lance's problem was with the fact that Adam was _Adam._

He suddenly found himself swallowing thickly around a lump of emotion in his throat. He would be lying if he said Lance's rejection did not sting. But he would also be lying if he said he didn't understand it.

Lance _knew_ that Adam knew about his poor reputation and had for some time. He recalled his own mortification at the words _extra curricular activities_ somehow slipping through that filter between his brain and his mouth, and in front of an entire class of Lance's peers, no less. He wondered if Keith had told Lance that Adam didn't think he was a good influence. Though he very much hoped he hadn't, Adam wouldn't blame Keith for that, either.

The only blame for the situation Adam now found himself in rested squarely on his own shoulders. And that _hurt._

Lance didn't deserve that. He hadn't deserved any of it. And now it was far too late to take anything back.

But looking back on all the times he'd told Keith _all you can do now is get back up and try to make it right,_ Adam thought it would be very hypocritical of him to leave things hanging the way they were.

Besides, he was going to be sharing his living spaces with this young man for an indefinite period of time. Lance deserved to return at the end the day to a place where he felt not only safe, but _at home._

Lance deserved an apology.

"Hey..." Adam started, trying to mimic the overly soft way he'd heard Takashi speaking to the teenager. He must have somewhat hit the mark, because Lance finally, _finally_ met his eyes, head shooting back up to look at him in pure surprise. "Lance, I...I believe I owe you an apology."

He paused, trying to gauge the reaction before he went any further. Lance looked away once again, squirming a little.

"What for?" He whispered. A single tear formed on his lower lashline and threatened to roll. Adam watched him rapidly blink it away. " _You_ didn't do this to me."

"For making assumptions," Adam said bluntly. Lance was silent. "For not seeing that you were suffering. For not reaching out to help. It's my job to protect you, not only as a Dom, but as an adult in your life. I haven't been doing that job very well - or at all, really. I made you feel uncomfortable more than once, and I don't blame you if you're frightened of me -"

"I'm not scared of you," Lance said immediately, almost defensively. Adam was pleased to see there was still a spark of _something_ left that gave Lance the urge to stand up for himself. That was good. One little spark, they could work with, and stoke into a roaring flame in time. A fireplace gone cold, not so much.

"Okay. I believe you. But if you _were_ afraid of me, you would have every right to be. I failed you, Lance. A lot of people did, but especially me. And for that, I'm very, _very_ sorry."

His words were followed by a stretch of silence so long Adam was beginning to consider simply leaving the boy alone to collect his thoughts.

Then, Lance did the absolute last thing Adam would have expected.

He dropped his arms from where they hugged his legs, shimmied his way across the mattress, and threw those arms around Adam to hug _him_ instead.

"Thank you," Lance mumbled into his shoulder, sniffling wetly, and he did not tense or flinch when Adam hugged him back. "I forgive you."

Adam then understood something he hadn't before. He completely understood how his sub and his son had gotten so attached to this boy so quickly, their feathers immediately ruffling the second Adam had any doubts or uncertainty surrounding him.

Lance McClain was easily the kindest, most generous kid he'd ever met.

"You don't have to thank me. Thank _you_." Adam cleared his throat. "Would you, um...would you like some breakfast?"

"God, yes, please. I'm starving."

"Blueberry pancakes, or chocolate chip?"

"...both?"

"I knew you were a smart kid."

The smile that earned him was bright enough, Adam was certain, to make even the sun cower in defeat.


	33. chew us up, spit us out, you know what you're breeding (lost aggressive youth)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Do what? It's just a fucking list, it's just their names. I wasn't going to do anything."
> 
> "Like hell you weren't, Keith Kogane. You're honestly going to stand there and tell me you wrote this entire list just for the hell of it?"
> 
> "So fucking what if I did?"
> 
> "You didn't." 
> 
> Shiro knew. He looked at the sea of rage burning in the eyes of his scared and confused and furious son, and he knew Keith had much more sinister intentions in mind.

The meeting with Iverson - if it could be called a _meeting_ \- left him angrier than he'd felt in a very long time. Angrier than he'd been in years, probably. Once he felt the magma in his veins was calm enough again that he wouldn't explode at the slightest provocation, Shiro went to find Keith.

Truth be told, he was worried. Shiro _knew_ Keith. And Keith was not the type of kid who sat in quiet libraries to calm himself and collect his thoughts. Keith was the type of kid who threw punches to collect his thoughts.

Shiro had a horrible feeling in his bones when Keith asked to tag along, willingly placing himself in school ninety minutes earlier than he had to. But Adam hadn't seemed worried, so he kept his mouth shut. The last thing they needed was another family feud.

His feeling, however, was confirmed when he went to find Keith after his spiff with Iverson, bracing himself to break the news that this might be a more difficult battle than they'd thought, and found the library entirely empty.

He was worried he might find Keith holding one of a few very specific Doms to the wall with a knife to the throat, or something equally as horrific. He was worried Keith had taken justice into his own hands. He was worried Keith was getting involved in something that would certainly earn him expulsion.

The absolute last place he was expecting to find his son was crying alone in a men's restroom.

The soft sounds of weeping, so strange from that familiar voice, drifted from a bathroom not far from the library. Shiro winced as he approached, his chest physically aching.

As if the day couldn't have gotten any worse.

"Keith?" Shiro asked softly as he pushed the door open, though he didn't really have to ask. He would know his child's voice anywhere. "You alright in there, kiddo?"

The teenager in question was leaning over one of the sinks with a white-knuckled grip on both edges, tears dripping steadily into the running water. One clenched fist held a crumpled piece of - actual, _real_ paper. Which was, Shiro thought, potentially the most suspicious thing about the entire scene. He couldn't recall a time he'd ever seen Keith use old-fashioned stationary.

He didn't respond to Shiro's entrance in any capacity. If Shiro didn't know any better, he might have thought Keith hadn't even heard him.

It _hurt_ to see him like this. A lot. It was excruciating, actually. But Shiro swallowed back the emotion welling up in his own throat and eyes. He was supposed to be the adult here.

"Keith?" He asked again, voice soft as he placed a hand on the teen's shoulder. Keith was already tense beneath him, muscles quivering. "Hey, buddy...I know this has been hard on you. I'm _so_ sorry you had to see all of that yesterday. Do you want to talk about it?"

"F-fuck off," Keith mumbled through his tears, which came as no surprise at all. He wasn't one for talking through his feelings.

"I didn't think so. Come on, bud. I'll call you out and you can stay home with Lance today, alright? I have some stuff I need to do, anyway."

Keith's initial rejection of his father's flopped attempts at comfort was entirely expected.

But the way he grew almost violent, out of the blue, throwing Shiro's hand off of his shoulder with a frightening intensity and pounding the porcelain sink with his own knuckles hard enough that it _had_ to hurt, was not expected at all.

Keith was hostile toward his parents at worst, on his bad days - but he was never _violent_ with them. That wasn't him.

Something was very wrong with this picture.

What exactly _was_ that sheet of paper, crumbled up into a ball now in his surely aching fist?

"Leave me the fuck _alone_!" His son roared. Shiro was not one to feel intimidated by Doms that were not his own, but he would be lying if he said the words didn't send a chill down his spine.

"No," Shiro said, with much more calm than he was actually feeling. "What do you have, Keith? Let me see it."

Keith squeezed his eyes shut, jaw clenched tight. _Everything_ clenched tight. And tears still spilling down his face. It was a strange sight; one of rage and sorrow visibly fighting for dominance.

The rage was winning.

"Keith. Show me."

"Fuck. _Off_."

And Shiro had a decision to make.

Perhaps not quite a risky one, physically - because he was, after all, significantly taller and stronger than his young son. But a risky one for their relationship? For Keith's mental stability? Yes. In those regards, _risky_ seemed like an accurate enough descriptor.

Shiro knew his son had a thing for Lance; he wasn't exactly secretive about it. And if he _was_ trying to be secretive about it, then he just plain sucked at keeping secrets. Keith had never been attached to any other sub besides Shiro before. At least, not that he and Adam knew of. And even then, this was _obviously_ very different. It was plain as day that Keith had a romantic interest in this boy.

This boy, Lance, who had been raped on eight seperate occassions right beneath the noses of all the adults in his life who were meant to be protecting him.

Keith didn't get passionate about things very often, if ever. And this wasn't a _thing_ that belonged to Keith which had been threatened. This was a living, breathing _person._ A person Shiro was fairly certain Keith _wanted_ to be able to say belonged to him. It was unavoidable that Keith was going to have some very strong, negative feelings about the situation.

Shiro understood that, and he felt for Keith and Lance both. He really did.

But none of that excused Keith's current behavior. Not in the slightest.

The violence and secrecy that had cost Lance so dearly - maybe would have even, one day, cost him his life if it had been allowed to continue - would not be avenged by piling on another heaping serving of violence and secrecy.

Shiro had a decision to make, and only a second to make it. There wasn't much room for second guesses before he was moving, hands catching both of Keith's clenched fists between his own even as they were raised instinctually to fight back. The paper was pried from his son's hands, Keith writhing to be released from his grip and growling obscenities at him through clenched teeth all the while.

"Let _go!_ " Keith snarled at him, but on the second word, his voice broke, and it sounded more like a strangled sob than anything. "Give it _back!_ "

"Stop it," Shiro said firmly. Or, he tried to say it firmly. His voice was beginning to crack, too.

He couldn't pinpoint exactly why. Maybe it was the utter despair, which he was trying so hard to surpress, of seeing Keith at a lower point than he'd known his child was capable of reaching. Maybe it was grief for Lance's innocence. Maybe it was everything that had happened, everything that was still happening, boiling up and over the edge of a proverbial pot.

It didn't matter. He had the paper now, smoothing out the crinkled edges while Keith pulled and clawed at his back and arms, desperate to snatch it back.

Shiro was quickly disappointed to see that it was only list of what appeared to be random names.

"What the hell do you need this for?" He asked, turning to shake the paper at his son in confusion, as well as in an anger that was, perhaps, uncalled for. He used his superior height to his advantage, holding the sheet well out of reach. Keith was desperate, but he was not desperate enough to begin jumping for it like a toddler. "What's so important about this?"

"What the _fuck_ do you mean what's important about it?" Keith practically screamed at him, voice hoarse and cracking. "You _know_ what they did to him!"

Shiro felt sickness stirring in his stomach. The dates written out beside the names suddenly made a lot more sense.

Especially considering the final name on the list of eight noted yesterday's date scrawled beside it.

Any anger or confusion or _anything_ that Shiro felt was drained out of him in an instant. His very soul felt empty, numb. How was he supposed to feel about this? Keith was right. But his methods were not.

Or - _were_ they?

Would it be wrong of him to dissuade Keith from seeking revenge on these young men and women? Revenge these absolute _monsters_ rightfully had coming to them? He had no goddamn clue. He settled on the road more traveled by; a safety route for uncertain parents everywhere.

"Keith. Buddy, _no._ This - this isn't how we're going to do this, okay?"

"Do _what?_ It's just a fucking list, it's just their names. I wasn't going to _do_ anything."

"Like hell you weren't, Keith Kogane. You're honestly going to stand there and tell me you wrote this entire list just for the hell of it?"

"So fucking what if I did?"

"You didn't." Shiro knew. He looked at the sea of rage burning in the eyes of his scared and confused and _furious_ son, and he knew Keith had much more sinister intentions in mind.

But there was something else in Keith's eyes now. That background sorrow that the rage had overshadowed was coming forth in waves, rivers of sorrow leading into that vengeful ocean and overtaking it. He didn't reach for the paper anymore. His fists unclenched. His muscles shook with a entirely different beast of emotion.

"I have to _do_ something," Keith said. His voice shifted from loud and demanding to a mere plea in an instant. "I can't just let them get away with this. We can't just - this isn't okay. You can just _do_ shit like that to people."

"Of course they can't, Keith, and they're _not_ going to get away with it, but this? This is not the answer."

Keith was silent, then, his gaze downcast. The tears that dripped onto his shoes were silent ones.

Shiro watched him warily. When it was clear he was not going to get a response, he hit with what he personally thought was the best weapon in his arsenal: "What's Lance going to do if you get expelled, hmm? If you go to _prison_ , Keith, what's he going to do? He'll be stuck here, surrounded by the people who want to hurt him - and you won't be here to protect him anymore. Are you really going to do that to him? I thought you were supposed to be his friend."

Keith made a gasping, choked sort of sound around a sob. Shiro wasted no time in wrapping his arms around his now much more willing son, who melted into him immediately and insisted, "I am. I _am_."

"Then prove it, Keith. Let me have this list." He felt Keith's back shudder beneath his hands, which couldn't soothe nearly as well as he wanted them to. "We'll do this the right way, okay? Don't leave Lance alone like that. He needs you."

Keith never responded to that, but Shiro didn't need him to. He took the lack of response, and the lack of attempts to retrieve the paper again, as a clear enough answer.

"We'll figure this out," he whispered as Keith began to calm against him, shuddering sobs turning into hitching breaths and silent tears. "We're gonna figure it out. Lance will be okay. We're all gonna be okay."

Those words had just as much propensity to be the worst lie he'd ever told as they did to be a fulfilled promise of better days to come. Shiro was entirely certain that he was not in any way prepared for whatever pool he was diving into. He dove anyway.


	34. i will always fight for one more breath (even in a cardiac arrest)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "This is no ordinary game of cards, my friend." Keith settled on the couch beside Lance, holding up the small box to present it like a peddler selling knock-off watches. "This is Uno. Destroyer of friendships. Homebreaker. Best friend of child custody attorneys everywhere."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> y'all i PROMISE there will be a chapter up of Keith being in a bloodthirsty rage against an abusive Dom in Lance's defense before this week is over! but shiro also needs to have keith's hit list; it's essential to the plot. the last chapter was a necessity that will come into fruition much later in this story, and most likely not for any reasons you're thinking (you'll understand when you read it but i'm talking like...30-40+ chapters from now.)
> 
> i promised protective angry boi keef and I SHALL DELIVER....just not today. patience yields focus!
> 
> anyways, here, have some tooth rotting fluff. enjoy!

"Wait, you - you've _seriously_ never played Uno?"

Keith watched Lance's eyes ( _baby blues, bright, beautiful, perfect_ ) widen in an almost comical way as he shook his head.

"No...?" He said slowly, peering over the back of the couch he sat curled on to see the pack of cards in Keith's hand. "Should I have?"

Keith let his jaw drop a few inches, mostly joking. Lance gave him a small, amused sort of smile, rolling his eyes. _God, you look amazing when you smile. Please never stop._

"Um, _yes_ ," Keith said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Everyone should have. I thought everyone _had_. You're probably the only person on the entire planet who's never played. I thought you had, like, four siblings?"

"Well, yeah," Lance scoffed. "But we play _normal_ family games, like Monopoly and Twister and stuff, not cards."

"This is no ordinary game of cards, my friend." Keith settled on the couch beside Lance, holding up the small box to present it like a peddler selling knock-off watches. "This is _Uno_. Destroyer of friendships. Homebreaker. Best friend of child custody attorneys everywhere."

"I don't know, Keith. Do you think our fragile, blossoming friendship can handle the homebreaker of all card games? We might come out of this in a custody battle."

" _Oh_ , but play, we must. Never having played Uno is no way to go through life, good sir."

Lance let out a closed-mouth laugh that wasn't quite a giggle but sounded similar enough, biting on a single corner of his bottom lip. Keith looked pointedly down at the pack of cards as he opened it. He hoped against all hope that the long sides of his hair would hide the furious blush painting his ears.

"If you insist." Lance heaved a dramatic sigh, tucking his sock-clad feet beneath him. He was swimming in a set of Adam's pajamas - Adam was the only person in the house who actually _used_ pajamas, and Keith's sweatpants came up a good six inches short on Lance's ridiculously long legs. Shiro's clothes were, of course, nowhere near a viable option.

The too-big clothing made Lance look so much... _smaller._ More fragile. Keith was painstakingly caught between lustful thoughts of _damn, what a fucking gorgeous little sub_ and panicked ones such as _please, never let anybody see you looking so breakable, you've already been hurt enough._ Both were, in his humble opinion, equally as valid.

Keith wanted to blame the feelings of the former on adolescent hormones running rampant after his embarassing emotional breakdown earlier in the day. But he and Shiro had, upon Keith's request, sat in the car in the Garrison parking lot until he felt he had himself under control, rather than going home right away.

He had nearly an hour to gather himself while Shiro sat silently in the driver's seat, offering the occassional word of comfort but mostly leaving him be. He felt several thousand times better afterwards (though he was mortified that he'd essentially lost all control of himself in front of his father.)

He was not an emotional mess as he sat on the couch, less than a foot away from Lance, who listened with rapt attention to Keith explaining the rules of Uno. In fact, it was quite the opposite. He felt calmer than he had in a long time.

Which left him with no excuse for his romantic (and, every so often, to his own horror, _explicitly_ romantic) thoughts toward a boy who was supposed to be his friend and nothing more. Keith wasn't sure whether recognizing those feelings as real and prominent should have excited him or scared him - but they didn't scare him anymore. Not really. Not the way they used to.

The possibility of said feelings being rejected? _That_ scared him. That scared him a lot.

But that was another story entirely.

"It's a little different with only two players - the reverse card is basically just a skip." Keith held said reverse card up in explanation. "That's it. Think you can take it?"

Lance grinned at him and rolled his neck. "You're going _down_."

The sub licked his lips and cracked his knuckles as if in preperation. That small, teasing smile was still firmly in place.

Keith knew Lance wasn't just magically better, _obviously_. He'd only just begun the long, arduous process of healing. There were going to be tears just as frequently as there were smiles over the upcoming months - maybe even the upcoming years.

He also knew that Lance had about ten more pounds of weight to his frame than he'd had two weeks before, and would likely wear a healthy, non-skeletal glow again in no time, if Adam's cooking had anything to say about it. He knew Lance had a warm bed in a safe house, where everyone wanted to help and nobody would even dream of hurting him. He knew Lance was going to be given everything he needed - and, hopefully, everything he wanted - not only in full measure but in abundance.

He knew Lance sat before him in that moment, fresh from the shower, wearing warm clothes, well-rested with a full stomach, teasing Keith over the outcome of a silly card game - smiling.

If the very least he could offer Lance were these small moments of play and peace amidst the chaos, then Keith would give these moments in abundance, too. Hell, he would probably give Lance absolutely anything he asked for. Denying him any request seemed like an unfathomable possibility.

"Hey, Lance?" Keith asked. His own voice, warm and sweet, sounded so unfamiliar to him. This sub touched the softest spots of his soul that Keith hadn't even known were there until that first trainwreck of a conversation in first period on an unassuming Tuesday morning.

"Hm?"

_I want to hug you. I want to kiss you. I want to make love to you. I want to own you. I want you to wear a collar with my initial on the front and smile when you say 'that guy over there, that's my Dom, I belong to him.' I want to make you happy. I want you. I want you. I want you. I want you -_

"If you have the _audacity_ to pull a draw-four on me, I swear to God, I'm going to yeet this entire game out the window and replace all of your fluffy pillows with my old, flat ones while you sleep."

Close enough.

"Challenge _thoroughly_ accepted."

"It was a threat, not a challenge."

"Mmhm. Talk to the draw-four, Kogane."

_I want you. I want you. I want you._


	35. through all of the chaos, i'll find a way out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This kid was never going to be the same. Shiro prayed he would be okay, and had hope that he would be. But he would never be as okay as he had been just a couple of months before. He would never be truly whole again.

Lance's dorm was nothing like Shiro was expecting it to be.

Sure, he'd gotten a glimpse of it when he stood just barely outside the doorway, opting not to invade the kid's privacy any more than neccessary as he gathered a few of his things. But that was different than actually being _in_ the room, without Lance there.

It didn't take him very long to realize Lance had little to no actual personal belongings. Or at least, had brought few to none of them with him when he was accepted into the Garrison.

The room was all but bare. It looked nothing like the dorm he fondly remembered living in during his own senior year, which had been covered in band posters and probably a little more unkept than his mother would have let his bedroom back home be. If you were going to spend an entire nine and a half months living away from your family in a cold, impersonal dorm, you should at _least_ spruce it up a little, Shiro thought. Add some personal touches to make it more _you._

If one were to judge a Garrison boarder's personality by the state of their dorm, they might think Lance had no personality at all.

Still, Shiro tried to keep his thoughts optimistic as he rocked awkwardly on his heels in the center of the dorm. Or as optimistic as he could be under the stress levels that were making his muscles begin to ache, the lights on his bracelets blinking a couple of times throughout the day in warning.

It was still relatively early in the school year, not even halfway through the first semester. Lance probably hadn't had time to get around to it before his abuse started. And once the first assault had taken place, decor was likely one of the very last things on his mind.

He tried not to feel guilty for coming back up here after dropping Keith off at the house, or for secretly memorizing the four-digit code Lance had punched into the door the day before. This was the room where seven out of eight of his horrific traumas had taken place. He wasn't exactly keen on the idea of forcing Lance to come back with him, potentially triggering a panic attack just to have the kid grab his own stuff and save Shiro the awkwardness.

It was easier and more humane to just do it himself. He was sure Lance wouldn't mind.

Shiro very quickly learned, though, with a heart sinking in his chest, that it wasn't just personal knick-knacks and items of entertainment Lance was lacking.

He didn't...he didn't really have _anything._ The only things found in his dresser drawers were a few spare school uniforms, a couple of pairs of jeans and one shirt (all bearing holes) and a spare toothbrush.

He wondered if Lance's family simply didn't have the money to spare. He remembered Keith saying something one day, probably letting the words slip without thinking, about using his chore money to buy Lance lunch. At the time, Shiro had to fight back a knowing smirk, entirely certain Keith was, either knowingly or unknowingly, flirting with his newfound sub friend by purchasing his meals for him.

But if Lance didn't even have the means to get his hands on some halfway decent clothes other than the few sets of school uniforms that came free with admission, then Keith's romantic lunch gestures might not actually be romantic gestures at all.

There seemed to be a strong possibility that Keith was only trying to keep an already scrawny Lance from starving to death.

Shiro remembered the smell of pancakes wafting through the house when he and Keith had returned, remembered seeing Adam in the kitchen washing dishes while the sound of the shower running sounded from the bathroom above, and thanked their lucky stars for small miracles.

He would have to remember to get Lance the same prepaid lunch card they'd given Keith. His son using personal spending money to feed Lance was sweet and all, but four or five dollars a day for food was a minor financial flux for adults. One the overseeing adults in Lance's life _should_ be bearing - and that was what he and Adam were now, he supposed.

Shiro wasn't sure what he was supposed to do once Lance's small stack of clothes had been packed into the bag he'd brought along. Honestly, he could have not brought the bag at all and been fine. He had been, admittedly, expecting Lance to have a good deal of sentimental items that he would want to hold onto.

This was just...so _strange._ What kind of teenager didn't bring _anything_ with them to board at a school several states away from their home?

He decided he would go ahead and check some more obscure places around the room, though he felt awkward and embarrassed to do so. They would soon reset the room's entry code and set the stage for a new student to be assigned this dorm, either next semester or next school year. He didn't want to leave anything behind that Lance might actually want.

Shiro felt like an idiot getting down on all fours and pressing his face to the floor to peer beneath the bed, but he did so, anyways. People stored things under their beds sometimes, right?

And there _was_ a box under Lance's bed, one of those short, long, decorative storage boxes they sold in home decor stores, which came as both a surprise and a relief. Maybe Lance did have some personal things here with him, after all, and simply kept them under the bed for safekeeping.

Maybe he kept them beneath his bed to store them away from prying eyes of the Doms who forced their way into his dorm to assault him.

Shiro shuddered. The thought was an intrusive and unwelcomed one, though it wasn't exactly unrealistic. He didn't want to think about Lance sorrowfully putting all of the things that might have once made his room unique out of sight for fear of having them destroyed or stolen. That was even worse than the concept of Lance not having anything to begin with, honestly.

But when he pulled the box out from under the bed and casually lifted the lid, it was not full of vacation souvenirs from childhood, or photos of loved ones, or anything of the sort.

It was full of clothes. Dirtied, rumpled clothes, stained with the dark brown color of old blood and - _other_ things. The rusty copper smell that wafted from the soiled laundry confirmed Shiro's worst fears about those ugly brown stains.

Lance _did_ have casual clothes to wear around on the weekends and after-hours. Or at least, he used to.

He just couldn't wear them anymore.

Shiro clapped a hand over his mouth and nose. Partially to block out the metallic scent that was giving him the urge to vomit, but mostly in shock. His other, free hand fumbled to put the lid of the box back on tight and shove it fiercely back beneath the bed.

That was - _God._

Of course he _knew_ Lance had been raped repeatedly. It was the overarching theme of the week, screaming at him from all angles, haunting his every waking (and sleeping) moment. It was one of the very few horrors he'd seen in his life that had the power to follow Shiro all the way to his grave.

But _oh my God._ This was real. This was real, physical evidence that it hadn't just been that one time in the classroom the morning before. The proof that Lance had been suffering in absolute agony far longer than any living being should ever be forced to.

And it hurt, it hurt _so bad_ , because the damage had already been done and there was absolutely _nothing_ Shiro could do to turn back time, to make Lance okay again, to remove the stains from those clothes.

This kid was never going to be the same. Shiro prayed he would be okay, and had hope that he would be. But he would never be _as_ okay as he had been just a couple of months before. He would never be truly whole again.

It wasn't just that there was nothing he could do. There was nothing _anyone_ could do. Everyone had failed Lance, failed abysmally, and they were too late.

They could, and would, ensure nothing like this ever happened to Lance again. They could, and would, help this young man begin to finally heal and move forward with his life in the aftermath of tragedy.

There was nothing they could do to prevent those eight tragedies from occuring in the first place. Not at this point. It felt like saving somebody's life and watching them die at the same goddamn time.

What was he even supposed to do with that box? He couldn't leave it behind, since it could be considered evidence in a court of law. But he couldn't very well go marching into the house with a box that Lance would certainly recognize right off the bat.

He didn't know what to do. There was a survivor of chronic sexual abuse living in his home, his responsibility to care for and to keep safe and to fix, and he had no fucking idea where he should even _start._

Shiro sat on the floor of a now out-of-use Galaxy Garrison dorm, surrounded by physical embodiments of misery, and wept.


	36. (i know) home is where you make it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "How are we supposed to stay here?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE SUBPLOT THICKENS YEEEEEET

"How are we supposed to stay here?"

Adam knew those words would be coming eventually. Now that they were here, spoken into existence, he felt entirely unprepared.

He carded his fingers through his sub's hair, watching Takashi's eyes flutter shut in content at the feeling, though the emotional turmoil on his face was still so plain to see.

It wasn't an unreasonable question. How were they meant to stay and work and live in a place where a sub's rights were so squandered? A place where a boy being assaulted several times by his fellow students was handled so abysmally? Where they could have the names of the Doms who had hurt Lance as well as video and DNA evidence, and still be told they simply didn't have enough proof?

Adam didn't know. He didn't know how to make Takashi feel safe. Didn't know how to make Lance feel safe. Didn't have any clue what to do at all.

After a moment, Takashi's eyes opened again, shining with unshed tears as they made contact with Adam's own. Adam was struck, for what must have been the thousandth time in all these years, by the thought that looking into Takashi Shirogane's eyes must have been what changed him; what finally made him see the light.

And then the answer came so easily to Adam, like the words were already there in the back of his head, just waiting to be unlocked.

"We have to." Adam breathed as he buried his face into his sub's still damp and cold hair, inhaling the scent of fresh shampoo. He brought a single hand up to cradle the sharp angle of his lover's jaw.

" _Why?_ "

"Because how can anything ever change if everyone capable of changing it leaves?"

Takashi immediately opened his mouth to respond, then stopped, as if the words had taken a second to fully sink in. He took a deep, shuddering inhale, and released it in a steady stream against Adam's wrist.

"You really think we can change the Garrison for the better? The four of us against all of them?"

"Think of all the kids like Lance who could be hurt. Think of what might have happened to Lance if we weren't here to step in." Adam pulled back to watch the rainbow of emotions flickering over the other man's face. "Do we have a choice?"

Takashi closed his eyes, and was silent for so long Adam was beginning to wonder if he'd fallen asleep. Then he spoke again, voice rough and strained.

"My grandmother - she told me something," he said quietly. "When you claimed me, and I told her that I was excited to be yours, but I was...scared of leaving my parents. Leaving home."

"What did she say?"

"She said, _'you aren't leaving home at all. Home is wherever you make it.'_ "

Adam pressed a sweet kiss to the inside of Takashi's palm. "Was she right?"

Takashi pulled his head back to gaze up at Adam, a slight, sad smile on his face and a twinkle in his eyes.

"She was," he whispered. "She always was."

"And she's about to be right again. It won't stay like this forever, love, not if we have any say in it. These things will change."

"Promise?"

"Swear on my life."

Takashi smiled a real smile, then, hopeful rather than bittersweet. He breathed his next words against Adam's parted lips before inviting himself to kiss them.

"Then let's make a home."


	37. you've got stars in your eyes so let's paint the skies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A perpetually cold and pale hand intertwined with his own warm one. Fingers locked together with his, squeezing him tight. Lance felt tears springing unbidden to his eyes.
> 
> Keith was holding his hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> enjoy some self indulgent mushy shit!

Everyone was _staring._

It was the first and foremost thought on Lance's mind as he walked through the halls of the Garrison, which felt cold and alien after a three-day weekend in a warm, cozy, welcoming home.

And he wasn't wrong. They really _were_ staring, not only at him, but at the both of them. He knew it wasn't just his own overactive imagination, because he could feel Keith's shoulder, tense and stiff, where their arms brushed together as they walked.

Lance didn't need their eyes on him. He didn't need prying stares to remind him of the hell he'd been through, to remind him that they were always watching, always judging.

He felt it every second of every day. He felt the pain and the horror of everything that his life had become in his lungs with every single breath he inhaled. Sometimes, he did manage to forget, for just a moment. He would spend time with Keith - or Shiro, or even Adam - and Lance would momentarily allow himself happiness.

But there was always a crash. Always a wave of remembrance that hit him hard when the fun and games wore off. It was horrific, having so much clean air to breathe and then suddenly suffocating all over again.

_Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder,_ Shiro told him. _Or at least, I'm guessing. I'm not a doctor or anything, obviously. But I'm pretty sure you're having PTSD panic attacks._

And what was Lance supposed to do about that? He couldn't exactly go asking his father to pay for therapy sessions. He sure as _hell_ wasn't going to ask Shiro and Adam, who hardly knew him and had already done way more than he ever could have asked, to fork out that kind of money.

He only hoped whoever said _time heals all wounds_ was correct. Otherwise, he was fresh out of luck.

Keith must have seen or felt his discomfort, because he suddenly seemed to be making a conscious effort to relax his muscles where Lance was leaning into him.

Lance jumped a little in surprise as fingers traced down his forearm, to his wrist, across his palm.

A perpetually cold and pale hand intertwined with his own warm one. Fingers locked together with his, squeezing him tight. Lance felt tears springing unbidden to his eyes.

Keith was holding his hand.

"Lance, just..." the Dom was mumbling beside him. Lance looked up through a watery gaze to see Keith licking his lips nervously, staring straight ahead in a very purposeful way, as if scared to meet Lance's eyes. "...just remember you're not alone here. Okay?"

A couple of tears slipped down his face. That certainly wasn't going to help his reputation as the weepy, timid little sub everyone loved to hate.

He couldn't help it. Because somebody was _holding his hand_ , and promising continued friendship despite the havoc it was going to wreak on both of their already mangled reputations.

He used his free hand to scrub the tears away, sniffling lightly, and nodded.

"I know," Lance whispered. He squeezed his friend's hand back. What little tension was left in Keith's arm and shoulder melted away. "You're here. I'm not alone. I know I'm not."

"Don't you fucking dare forget it."

Lance smiled a little, looking over at the slightly shorter boy who still did not meet his eyes. He knew Keith well enough by now to know he meant nothing by his forward-facing gaze. Keith wasn't much for eye contact, or for _'that mushy shit.'_

But he was trying. He was here.

"I won't."

And that was all Lance could have asked for.


	38. i might be in too much debt with the hell in my head (i'm way too aggressive)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He left Lance alone for thirty seconds.
> 
> And he returned to find a Dom pressing his Lance up against a wall, wearing an obnoxiously excited grin in contrast to the sub's terrified whimpers.

He left Lance alone for thirty seconds.

Keith walked away from the library table, where Lance was entirely zoned in on his rough draft, to find a reference file for his own report. He walked barely ten yards away, just a few aisles down. For _thirty fucking seconds._

And he returned to find a Dom pressing _his Lance, his boy, his_ up against a wall, wearing an obnoxiously excited grin in contrast to the sub's terrified whimpers.

His body moved without his permission, instinct and adrenaline flooding his brain. Through a haze of rage, he saw his own hands pulling Lance - perhaps a little too roughly - to stand behind him.

Then the Dom boy was in front of Keith with _his_ back pressed to the wall, and Keith's hands digging into his shoulders, shaking him roughly.

"How the fuck do _you_ like that shit?" His own voice roared through the blood pumping in his ears. "Who said you could touch him? _Who the fuck do you think you are?_ "

Slim hands rife with tremors were at his back, tugging lightly on his shirt. Trying to pull him away.

"Keith!" Lance was saying from behind him. "Keith, _please_ , come on. Let's just go."

Keith hesitated. He watched the boy beneath his hands swallow thickly.

"Yeah, man. Listen to your sub," the Dom said.

The anger that had faltered at Lance's plea came roaring back twice as strong. He shook the boy's shoulders again, watching him wince as his head was slammed back against the wall.

"You shut the fuck up," Keith snarled. Some of that initial haze, the red color framing the edges of his vision, began to fade, but the rage remained. "You don't get to fucking tell _anyone_ what to do, you stupid piece of fucking _shit_ -"

" _Keith_."

And that did make Keith pause - genuinely this time. His breath caught in his throat. Lance sounded about two seconds away from bursting into tears.

That wasn't right. That wasn't the goal here. He was trying to protect Lance. He was trying to keep him safe. Why would that make him cry?

Keith looked over his shoulder at the sub, concern momentarily overtaking his anger. Sure enough, Lance's lips were trembling where they were pressed together in a grim line, and a there was thin sheen of unshed tears over his eyes.

He watched in confused silence as Lance took a hesitant step forward, bringing his fingers to circle around one of Keith's wrists.

"Please," Lance whispered. "You can't - you can't do this anymore, remember? You're gonna get kicked out. You can't do that to me. You can't leave me alone here. Please, _stop_."

It was, honestly, the hardest choice Keith had been forced to make in his life thus far.

That little fucker's throat was so close, _so close_ to his hands. Keith could strangle him, right then and there. Make sure there was no chance he would ever so much as _look_ at Lance the wrong way for the rest of all eternity. Send the motherfucker straight to hell, where he rightfully belonged.

But it would be the last thing he ever did to protect Lance. Protecting him from inside the walls of a prison might prove challenging.

"Keith. I'm _begging you._ Please stop."

And how many times, Keith wondered, had Lance said such similar things to the Doms who had raped him? How many times had he begged them to stop, only to have them ignore him and continue, regardless of his wishes?

Was he really going to become just another one of them?

"Keith. Please. You don't have to do this for me, okay? I don't want you to. Please stop."

Keith released his grip on the other Dom slowly, finger by finger, feeling Lance's hand go lax around his wrist when he was certain there was no longer any immediate threat of his protective friend becoming a murderer. The loud, shaky sigh of relief Lance released from just behind him almost took the sting out of having to let his prey go.

_Almost._ Because that motherfucking bastard had it coming. If Keith had been allowed to continue, that dick absolutely would have deserved it.

"Thank you," Lance whispered. He felt the sub's forehead falling to rest against his shoulder, nuzzling into him. That limp grip around his wrist slid up to hold onto his bicep instead, thin fingers still trembling. "Thank you."

Something soft and tender stirred inside of him even as the boy scrambled out of reach, and he reached back to curl an arm against Lance's waist, pulling him as close as humanly possible. It didn't strike him until he'd already done so that being in such close proximity to a Dom might send Lance into a spiral of panic.

It didn't. Lance only continued to nuzzle his face against Keith's back and shoulder, thumb rubbing soft circles into his arm.

"S-sorry, man," the boy said from a good ten feet away, both looking and sounding like he'd just been scared half to death. _Good, you ugly little bitch._ "I didn't know he was claimed, I swear."

Keith's entire body tensed, and he was sure Lance must have felt it, but the sub gave no indication that he'd even noticed.

Lance...Lance wasn't his. Unfortunately.

But it would be stupid not to use such a wonderful misunderstanding to his full advantage (in the interest of keeping Lance safe, of course.)

"He is," Keith growled more than spoke, his fingers spreading across the warm expanse of Lance's belly where his ribs were still far too prominent. "So _fuck off._ And tell all your disgusting little friends to stay away, too. If this happens again, they won't be as lucky."

The boy gulped, nodding frantically. Keith jerked his own head in the direction of the door; a clear invitation to _fucking beat it._

The nameless Dam was gone in a flash, suddenly not so tough now that there wasn't a lone, defenseless little sub to take advantage of.

"Can we just go home?" Lance asked quietly, the words muffled slightly against Keith's shoulder, once they were alone again. "I don't really feel like studying anymore."

Keith felt a strong rush of dissappointment when Lance finally pulled away from him, and an urge to pull him back, to hold him closer, to never let him go. He hoped it wasn't showing on his face.

"I don't, either." Keith cleared his throat. "I just - yeah. Yeah, let's go home."


	39. all the frames have been replaced off the shelf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "How do you say no to Doms that aren't Adam?"
> 
> Out of all the questions buzzing around in Lance's mind, vying for attention, this was the one that ended up bubbling up his throat and spilling out of his stupid, stupid mouth. Lance dropped his fork onto his plate with a clatter, appetite suddenly lost.

Dinner that night was an awkward afair in the Wyler/Shirogane/Kogane/McClain household...or whatever they were supposed to be calling it ( _Wyrokoain?_ Lance's mind supplied helpfully. _McLergane?_ )

Were he in a better mood, Lance would have happily babbled on for a solid ten minutes about finding them all a good celebrity friendship name. Keith would smile at him, eyes sparkling, and occassionally supply an idea of his own but otherwise listen raptly as though it was the most important conversation he'd had all week. Shiro and Adam would smile, too, sharing fond, playful looks, but eating their dinner in silence as they watched the two younger men banter.

It was nice, he thought, to be able to say such normal, affectionate dynamics were no longer out of his reach. It almost felt like a second chance at having a family who gave a shit.

But none of that happened. Because Lance was not in a better mood, he was in _this_ mood. And _this_ mood really sucked ass.

It almost felt like keeping a dirty secret, his and Keith's unspoken agreement to not tell his friend's parents that they were just going to let the entire school think they were in a bonded claim together. Not that they were doing anything _wrong,_ because they weren't. Lance knew Keith had only said what he said in interest of Lance's safety.

He would never say as much to Keith, but it had filled him with absolute joy and peace, hearing those words come from his friend's mouth. The idea of being claimed by _Keith_ made him feel insurmountably secure.

That was all it was, though. An idea. A lie. He wasn't about to go getting his hopes up.

Keith seemed to think Shiro and Adam would disapprove of their dishonesty. Lance could admit that they certainly seemed like the our-child-should-always-be-honest type, but considering they were almost as protective of him as Keith, he somehow doubted they would have any qualms with their lying to the entire student body.

But Keith didn't want to tell them, so Lance wouldn't, either.

Maybe Keith was embarrassed enough at the prospect of the entire school thinking he'd claimed a slut. Maybe he didn't want his parents to think he was _okay_ with claiming a slut. Lance couldn't exactly blame him.

Whatever. It didn't matter.

Besides, Lance was pretty sure Shiro and Adam were keeping a secret of their own.

The bits and pieces of conversation the four of them were having at the table that night were stilted at best. What little they talked about all had to do with Lance and his current situation, unfortunately.

Whenever he or Keith so much as mentioned what action(s) they thought the school might take, Shiro and Adam shared secretive, almost warning glances with one another. They were brief, and the emotion was gone in a flash, never spoken into existence. It was there all the same.

Shiro had a meeting with Iverson the Friday morning after they took him home, just three days prior. Lance knew he had. Adam had told him as much in explanation of Shiro and Keith's absence as they ate the man's (absolutely _heavenly_ ) blueberry-chocolate-chip mashup pancakes.

A meeting to discuss what steps could be taken in the aftermath of Lance's trauma to keep him safe. To discuss what _legal_ steps could be taken.

Lance was just now realizing, as he mumbled a half-hearted response to Shiro's question about _you don't have any clothes of your own would you like to go shopping,_ that they'd never been told what the outcome of that meeting was.

At least, _he'd_ never been told. For all he knew, Adam and Keith had both been given an extensive run-down. Or maybe just Adam. Keith would have told him anything he knew.

Keith wasn't the type to keep things from Lance, to walk on eggshells, which Lance highly appreciated. _You experienced it, and it was hell, and we all know it,_ Keith told him once over the weekend. _Why shouldn't we talk about it with you? You're the one who had to live it. You should be involved._

Maybe...maybe that was why Shiro and Adam were sharing such knowing, secretive glances. Maybe they both knew something they just didn't want to share.

Maybe they'd realized what a slut he was and that they didn't want him here after all, which was exactly what he'd feared from the start. Maybe they understood, now, that Keith was the good child, their _real_ child, and rescuing Lance from his abusers as well as himself had been nothing but a pipe dream. Maybe they didn't want to help him. Maybe the school wasn't going to do _anything._

"Lance, buddy? Did you hear me?" Shiro was asking.

"How do you say no to Doms that aren't Adam?"

Out of all the questions buzzing around in Lance's mind, vying for attention, this was the one that ended up bubbling up his throat and spilling out of his stupid, _stupid_ mouth. Lance dropped his fork onto his plate with a clatter, appetite suddenly lost.

_(Why the hell would you ask that you stupid little bitch? Why would he want to help you? He probably can't. It's probably something you should already know. It's probably not even a learned skill, you're just too fucking weak, and whose fault is that?)_

Shiro paused mid-bite, staring at him with wide eyes. Adam averted his gaze awkardly, suddenly very interested in the aesthetically old-fashioned round clock on the wall.

Keith was staring, too, out of the corner of his eye, but he didn't look surprised like Shiro. His eyes were sad, eyebrows drawn, like he...like he was upset that Lance even had to ask such a stupid question.

"Oh," Shiro cleared his throat, gently setting his own fork down. "Well, that - there are a lot of factors, kiddo. I'm older than you. I have a lot of experience with Doms. I'm also pretty healthy mentally. You...don't quite have all those things just yet. But you'll get there, alright? I'll help you."

"Experience?" Lance gulped. His own watery gaze met Shiro's shellshocked one. "Mental...stuff? Does that make a difference?"

"Yeah...yeah, buddy." Shiro's voice was intentionally soft all of a sudden, likely in an attempt to keep the tears gathering in the younger sub's eyes from spilling over. "Mental health is a big part of being a sub, you know? If you're not doing so well, you're going to feel a lot more vulnerable. And - we can make ourselves sick if an adult sub goes too long without being, uh, in subspace." Shiro cleared his throat and shifted nervously in his seat at the mention of an overtly sexual-by-nature aspect of subhood.

"And experience? As in?"

"And experience as in...not just being _around_ Doms, but experience in telling them _no._ You have to practice that. Didn't...didn't your sub parent ever teach you this? My mother started helping me practice as soon as I hit that age where I started feeling urges to obey."

"No. Nobody ever told me that. I just thought I was the weakest little bitch _ever_."

A couple of the tears welling up at Lance's eyes fell. Shiro suddenly looked far too alarmed for his liking. Adam didn't even look, but his face was the picture of sorrow and regret.

They didn't know how to respond to that. Of course they didn't. Because Lance _was_ a weak little bitch. A stupid bitch, too. He should have known all of this. It was, apparently, common knowledge among subs. It was his own damn fault for not knowing, for never thinking to ask his mother when he first began having his sub urges years ago.

Lance dropped his gaze to his half-eaten dinner, sniffling as he scrubbed the ends of his sleeves furiously over his eyes.

A familiar, cold hand fell to rest on his wrist, stopping his right hand mid-scrub. Lance looked up through reddened eyes to see Keith looking at him in utter sadness and pain. Like it actually _hurt_ him to hear Lance say something so self-deprecating.

"You're not weak." Keith spoke quietly, but his words were firm and full of conviction. "You're the stronest person I've _ever_ met, Lance. Don't let _anyone_ tell you otherwise. You hear me? Ever. You are _not_ weak."

And Lance, in spite of himself, believed it.

He offered his friend a shaky smile. Keith smiled sadly back at him.

"Thanks," Lance whispered. "That's - really nice. Thank you."

Keith nodded with all the certainty in the world. "It's just the truth."

_(Maybe it is.)_


	40. this is how it ends (i feel the chemicals burn in my bloodstream)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His hand did shake, though, as it reached toward the open cabinet, his mind made up.
> 
> He was going to end it. He had to. He couldn't wait any longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> suicide tw for this chapter
> 
> enjoy the delicious angst!

He could end it.

Right there, standing in the Wyler/Shirogane/Kogane/ _not-McClain-I-don't-belong-here_ bathroom, staring into an open medicine cabinet. He could take one full bottle -  maybe two - maybe three, just for good measure.

And then he would be done.

No more agony, no more panic attacks, no more lonely suffering. No chance of dying alone if he did it now, while people still had his back, instead of waiting until they inevitably abandoned him.

Keith would cry. Lance knew he would. His friend wasn't much for crying, but if anything could make him shed tears, it would be this.

That hurt to think about. It really did. It was painful to know that he held that kind of power over Keith, that he could make him miserable by doing something as quick and easy as dying.

But what hurt more was thinking that, a few months from now, Keith probably wouldn't mourn for Lance at all. Would probably decline an invitation to his funeral with a scoff and a roll of his eyes and a _no thanks, don't know why I wasted so much time on him in the first place._

Lance felt like he should have been crying himself, in that moment. But he'd been crying _so much_ lately. It didn't feel like there should be enough water left in his disgusting body to form tears. He was all cried out.

His hand did shake, though, as it reached toward the open cabinet, his mind made up.

He was going to end it. He had to. He couldn't wait any longer. It was selfish that he would rather hurt his friend now and die in peace than hurt himself later by dying lonely and unloved. Lance supposed he was just a selfish person like that.

His hand had just wrapped around a prescription bottle of something or another when there was a loud knock on the door.

Lance jumped in surprise, narrowly avoiding dropping and spilling the pill bottle he held. The noise surely would have alerted whoever was outside the door to his intentions. His heart pounded as he hurriedly placed the little orange container back in the cabinet.

"Yeah!" He said in a voice that cracked. He winced and cleared his throat. "Yeah, I'm almost done."

There was a moment of silence, then Shiro's voice, uncertain and cautious: "Lance? You doing alright, bud?"

"Yeah. Yeah, hang on, just - just give me a minute."

Lance looked in the mirror, frantically attempting to flatten out his hair, which was crazed from running his hand repeatedly through it during the ten or so minutes spent trying to make a decision. He thanked his lucky stars he was all cried out, after all. Red, puffy eyes would have been nearly impossible to hide.

Once he was certain his appearance held some level of normalcy, Lance swung the door open, a small smile planted firmly in place. Shiro was waiting, an unreadable look on his face and a towel draped over his shoulder.

"All yours," Lance said quickly, brushing past the older man, whose troubled gaze he caught out of the corner of his eye and felt on his back all the way back down the hall to the guest room.

So he was doing this, eventually. He was definitely going to end it. Maybe? Probably.

Just not tonight.


	41. so tell me when it kicks in

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro took a deep, shuddering breath.
> 
> "I think Lance was trying to kill himself."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yiiikeeessss!!!

Shiro didn't know what exactly what he was expecting when he accepted a traumatized, depressed teenager into his life and home on a whim.

He supposed he was expecting the panic attacks, and all of the tears, and the time and energy spent on trying to figure out how to find legal justice for said abused teenager.

What he absolutely _wasn't_ expecting - but probably should have been - was to walk into the bathroom after a suspiciously frazzled Lance and find the medicine cabinet open.

But not only did he find the medicine cabinet open. He also found his bottle of prescription muscle relaxers, which he was sure could be fatal at a high enough dosage, in a different position on a different shelf than it had been when he took it that morning.

It wasn't that difficult to notice. They didn't have many things in their medicine cabinet to begin with. Shiro had his muscle relaxers. Adam had an old bottle of antidepressants that he, thankfully, hadn't needed to take in over a year and a half (they really should throw those out, get rid of that ugly reminder.) They had three different bottles of low-strength painkillers, one for each person's brand preference. Keith's old antiobiotics from the ear infection he'd had last winter.

Shiro took his muscle relaxers every morning, and he always placed them back in the same spot, simply out of habit. Nobody else touched them.

At least, Keith and Adam didn't touch them.

Lance might be another story entirely.

Lance, who had been abused horribly, who was having panic attacks, who was always crying -

_Oh, God._

Shiro closed the door and dropped his towel haphazardly on the floor, any thoughts of showering long forgotten. His hands shook as he took the pill bottle out of the cabinet, poured the pills into his hand, and counted them out. _Please, please, please._

His knees felt weak with relief when every dose came up accounted for. Lance hadn't taken any. Hadn't taken any back to his room with him.

But he'd still picked it up. Still looked at it.

Still thought about it. Still come out of the bathroom wearing that fake-ass smile and looking like he'd just been caught doing something terribly wrong.

Without a second thought, Shiro swept every content of the cabinet into his hands, even the over-the-counter painkillers. He left the cabinet open and empty, hurrying down the hall to his and Adam's bedroom before either of the boys could emerge from their rooms and see him.

Adam glanced noncomitally up from where he sat grading tests on his notepad on the bed - then did a double take when he saw the variety of medicines hoarded in his sub's hands. The notepad was set aside then, and Adam was sitting up straight, grading entirely forgotten.

"Takashi?" He asked softly, watching in utter confusion as Shiro pushed the door shut with his foot and stepped forward to drop the contents of the medicine cabinet on their dressertop. Adam was on his feet instantly, one hand massaging Shiro's shoulder, the other intertwining their fingers together. "What's wrong, love? Why did you take these all out of the bathroom?"

Stress was fogging up the sub's brain. He didn't know what he was doing with this kid, how to help him, how to make him understand that things were not going to be this way forever.

He needed a break. He needed subspace. He needed Lance to be whole and happy and well, so he could stop _worrying_ like this all the damn time.

That familiar feeling of clingy dependency was welling up inside him. He turned and pressed his face into the other man's shoulder. The Dom must have understood, because his fingers carded softly through Shiro's hair, petted his face aimlessly, rubbed up and down his arm.

"Takashi, please. You're scaring me. What's going on, sweetheart?"

He didn't want to speak the words into existence. If he let them sit in his brain, mere thoughts, maybe they would turn out to not be true after all, and everything would be alright. If he spoke them, they might become real.

But he couldn't do that. He had to tell Adam. There was a strong urge, one he knew so well, to submit to his Dom and let him take control. Adam would know what to do. He always did.

Shiro took a deep, shuddering breath.

"I think Lance was trying to kill himself."


	42. you can choke on your misery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Uh - hey, Lance," the boy said awkwardly.
> 
> "Hunk." Lance said the word in a stilted sort of way. "Can I help you?"
> 
> Keith had definitely missed something here.

It was an unfamiliar face that approached Keith and Lance at lunch the next day.

Or, at least, unfamiliar to Keith. Lance seemed to know who the boy was at once. His open-mouthed laughter at some stupid joke Keith had made fell the instant he caught sight of the other student walking towards them.

For half a second, Keith was preparing himself (and his fists) to be up in arms. But he realized quickly enough that Lance didn't look _afraid_ at all - just sad and hesitant. And the student in question seemed to be far from a Dom. He stopped at the edge of their table with his eyes downcast, a frown and a light blush on his face, hands held behind his back and feet shuffling on the tile.

"Uh - hey, Lance," the boy said awkwardly.

Lance's expression shifted away from sadness, and became hardened with some form of indignance. He lifted his chin, eyes locked firmly on the boy's unresponsive face. Keith allowed himself to relax a little. _Definitely not an abuser, then._

"Hunk." Lance said the word in a stilted sort of way. "Can I help you?"

Keith had definitely missed something here.

The boy - _Hunk_ , apparently - nodded a little. "I, uh, just wanted to - to say that I'm -"

"Spit it out," Lance said shortly. Keith blinked at him in surprise, and found himself having to fend off a small smile of pride when it threatened to twist his lips. This wasn't the time. _But damn, Lance, drag him._ "We're trying to enjoy our lunch."

Hunk lifted his eyes just a little. They flickered briefly over Keith's form before landing on Lance.

"I'm sorry," Hunk said. "I'm just...I'm really, _really_ sorry."

The words sounded sincere enough, but it was the implication that caused Keith to sit up straight in alarm and the color to drain from Lance's face. Lance glanced over at him, and Keith offered a small shake of the head; _I didn't tell anyone. I have no idea._

It'd been a relief for both of them to discover that the student body was still oblivious to the reality of Lance's situation. Sure, everyone knew about the final assault that had taken place in Campbell's classroom - it would have been nearly impossible to hide after the very public scene they'd made. But the other seven videos remained, as far as anyone else was concerned, consensual experiences.

Lance wanted to keep it that way. Keith wouldn't have dared tell anyone without his explicit permission. So what was this Hunk guy apologizing for?

"For what?" Lance's voice cracked. He licked his lips and cleared his throat.

"For being a sucky friend. Or, like - not a friend at all, I guess."

_What the hell?_

Lance didn't share Keith's confusion. He must have known exactly what Hunk was referring to. He averted his gaze to the table, nodding slowly, as if trying to make up his mind.

_You don't have to forgive anybody!_ Keith wanted to shout at him. _Everyone hurt you! Everyone let you down! Whatever the hell he did, you don't have to forgive him!_

Keith was cold and unforgiving; he didn't accept apologies or let things go easily, if ever. He stood firm under the belief that the vast majority of people who received forgiveness for their crimes shouldn't have. People were ugly, unwieldy monsters. Who could show mercy on anything so ghastly and hideous as a human being?

But Lance was not Keith.

Lance was sweet. Lance saw the best in people. Lance was _good_. Lance was nothing like him.

And he hadn't exactly had the chance to fight his own battles as of late. He was probably getting sick of standing on the sidelines and watching other people win his war.

Keith decided to stay quiet - begrudgingly - and let him have this one.

"I understand if you don't want to accept my apology," Hunk continued, voice beginning to waver. "I really... _really_ messed up, man. I just want you to know that I regret it. And if I could change it, I would. I'm so sorry, Lance."

"I forgive you," Lance said in a much softer voice than he'd been using just sixty seconds before.

Hunk caught his gaze, eyes wide with surprise. He clearly hadn't been expecting that.

Which kind of put him back in Keith's good graces - maybe, just a little - because he'd come in expecting Lance to reject him but understanding that, whatever he'd done wrong, Lance was deserving of an apology, regardless.

Then Lance continued: " _But_...I'm not really ready to try being friends again. I forgive you, but I don't...I don't want to be your friend. Not yet, anyway. I just - need some more time."

Hunk's face fell a little. He nodded graciously and offered a bittersweet sort of smile.

"I understand," the boy quietly. "Thank you, Lance. I really am sorry."

"I know you are. It's okay."

Keith watched Lance offer a small smile, holding onto it even after Hunk turned and shuffled away. The sub turned the smile on him once the other boy had gone.

Keith did not understand Lance McClain.

He didn't understand his kindness or his propensity to forgive. He didn't understand how a single person could hold so much empathy and love inside of them without bursting at the seams.

But with that soft, sweet smile turned on him, warm enough to tug the corners of his own lips upward in defiance of gravity itself - _well._ Keith definitely wasn't complaining.


	43. some things only god can forgive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "And, besides," Lance continued, flashing him a soft, kind smile. "Sometimes forgiveness isn't really for them. Sometimes it's for you."

"What did that Hunk guy do, anyway?"

Lance's pace slowed a little, and Keith slowed his own steps to match. Lance gave him a sidelong look, like he wasn't sure it was a question he wanted to answer.

"He was my friend," Lance finally said, mildly. His calm didn't sound forced like Keith thought it would. "And then word got out that I was a whore, and he didn't feel like being my friend anymore."

Keith was getting sick of feeling so angry lately. Having rage boil in his gut and throat was not a comfortable feeling - but he couldn't help it. How was he supposed to hear that and _not_ be angry?

"And you still forgave him."

"Mmhm."

Lance's gaze was no longer on him. He was entranced by the beauty of the world around him; they were walking home through the area between the Garrison and the outer suburbs of Plant City, where the dry dessert was gradually overtaken by lush green. Keith was too used to the sights to think they were pretty. He knew they were manmade. But he would let Lance enjoy the relatively new sights, if that made him happy.

He wasn't done talking about this, though. "I don't understand why you do that."

Lance did a double take at Keith, looking away from admiring the small lake and rolling hills they were passing to peer at him in confusion.

"Why you forgive everyone so easily," Keith clarified. He watched understanding slowly dawn on Lance's face, shadowed by the slightest hint of amusement. That was... _frustrating_. He wasn't joking. He really didn't understand. "I'm serious. You didn't even think about it for that long. You just...decided not to be mad. How do you _do_ that?"

"I was never mad at him," Lance was quick to correct. "I was hurt, but I wasn't mad."

"How did your friend _abandoning_ you not make you angry?"

"I don't get angry very easily."

_God, I wish that were me._

"And, besides," Lance continued, flashing him a soft, kind smile. "Sometimes forgiveness isn't really for them. Sometimes it's for you."

Keith gulped. "You're _way_ too mature to be friends with me."

"Maybe," Lance said through a laugh. "That's okay. I love you anyways."

_I love you, too, but not the way you meant. I love you. I love you. I love you._

"Well, _thanks_ for being such a fucking saint that I look like an actual demon from the pits of hell standing next to you."

Another laugh, light and pretty, like wind chimes - that was _easily_ Keith's favorite sound in the entire fucking world, ever. "Anytime."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> do i really have to subtly incorporate a meme into every other chapter, you ask?
> 
> yes. you know i had to do it to em.


	44. give me therapy, i'm a walking travesty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Hey, Lance? Adam and I would like to speak to you in the kitchen, please. Alone."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *cue shark attack danger music from jaws*

"Hey, Lance? Adam and I would like to speak to you in the kitchen, please. Alone."

His heart pounded, threatening to beat out of his chest. His throat felt tight, panic clawing its way up, pulling the airways shut. Unwelcomed tears sprang to his eyes.

There was a heavy feeling in the pit of Lance's stomach and he _knew_. He knew they were going to kick him out, eventually, but he hadn't thought they would get sick of him so soon. How long had it been? Four and a half days?

Lance nodded, nonetheless, and rose from the couch on shaky legs. He met them at the archway between the kitchen and the living room with his arms crossed protectively over his chest.

Adam nodded over Lance's shoulder at a very confused-looking Keith, whose attention was now thoroughly turned away from the TV. "Son, why don't you go upstairs for a bit? We won't be long."

"Why...?" Keith started to ask, warily eyeing the three of them, but a no-nonsense look from Shiro shut him up.

"Just do as your father says, please." Shiro spoke in a rare tone that Lance took to mean his patience was wearing thin.

Keith trudged up the stairs without a word, and with many concerned backward glances.

Lance took a steadying breath as Adam offered a forced, impatient smile and led him to sit at the head of the table. The couple both took a place on either side of him.

_This is it. I'm gone, they're kicking me out, they hate me. Keith won't want to talk to me ever again. I should have taken those pills while I had the chance, should have done something while I still had people willing to mourn me. It's too late now. I'm going to die alone. I'm going to die alone. Oh, God, I'm gonna die alone._

"Lance?" Shiro said in a soft, worried way Lance wasn't expecting, causing him to flinch when the older sub laid a kind hand on his shoulder. Shiro retracted it immediately, misreading his shock reaction as discomfort. Lance wished he would have left it. Let him believe in the illusion of comfort for a few seconds longer. "Hey, _hey_ \- don't panic, alright? Everything's okay. You're not in trouble. Just breathe."

Lance realized two things simultaneously: with a rush of relief, a piece of his more sensible mind came back to him, realizing that whatever this little get together was, it was not a get-out-we-hate-you meeting.

He also realized that his breath had grown harsh, his entire body was trembling, and he was already spiraling too far into the depths of a panic attack for his newfound logic to be of any use.

Shiro and Adam shared a look. They did that a lot. But this one was different. It was knowing and grim; to Lance's (admittedly untrained) eye, it read something along the lines of _this is exactly what I mean._

Shiro's arms were around him in a second, hands soothing up and down his back. There was a third hand, too, darker and smaller than Shiro's, gently resting atop his on the table out of the corner of his eye.

" _Shhh_ ," Shiro murmured in his ear, taking Lance's hand that Adam wasn't already holding and resting it on his own abs. The deliberate, deep rise and fall of his lungs was a comfort against Lance's palm - and a guide, he knew. He made a pathetic attempt at following along. "Just breathe, kiddo. We've got you. You're safe with us, remember? You're safe now."

Lance made an embarrassingly animalistic sobbing sort of sound against Shiro's shoulder. "S-sorry. 'M so sorry."

"Don't be sorry," Adam whispered from behind him. "You haven't done anything wrong."

Lance had too many responses to that to choose from. He settled on silence for a good two or three minutes, instead, until he'd caught up with his breath enough to form full sentences again.

"'M sorry 'cause I'm being stupid," Lance mumbled. The inner turmoil remained even as he felt his body beginning to calm. "You shouldn't have to h-hold me like a baby five times a day b'cause I can't handle 'nything."

Shiro's arms tightened around him.

"You are _not_ being stupid, or babyish," the older sub whispered fiercely. "You've been through _hell_ , Lance. You're allowed to not be okay after that."

"I second that." Adam added, raising two fingers as if bidding at an auction. "I grade your tests, keep in mind. And you certainly aren't stupid."

There was a long pause. Lance turned his head so that he could see the two of them even as he rested on Shiro's shoulder. The two of them were giving each other _that look_ again; their own weird form of silent communication. They stopped as soon as they noticed him watching.

"This is...kind of what we wanted to talk about, son," Adam said. He shifted awkwardly in his seat, glanced once more at his sub, then locked eyes with Lance. "We know you're trying really hard to get better. We see it, and we're so proud of you, okay? We want you to know that first and foremost."

The Dom stared at him intensely for a few seconds (and it was weird how that didn't intimidate him like it once would have.) It struck Lance that Adam was waiting for a confirmation of his understanding.

"Okay?" Lance said hesitantly, relying heavily on Shiro's hands still rubbing his back, Shiro's breath audible and strong beneath his ear, to keep him grounded.

Adam nodded. He inhaled deeply, closed his eyes, and blew the breath out slowly through puffed cheeks. Lance got the feeling he was preparing to say something painful. When Adam opened his eyes again, they were still kind, but there was a firmness there now. Whatever he was going to say, no argument or protest would be accepted.

"We know you've been considering taking your own life. Let me finish," Adam quickly tacked on when Lance opened his mouth on instinct to deny it. "We know. And we're... _so_ devastated that you would ever think you need to end your life to feel better. We want you to be healthy, and live a long, happy life, Lance. You deserve that."

"We want you to start seeing a therapist," Shiro jumped in to lay down the punchline. "You don't have to ask your parents or anything; we'll pay for it. But this is non-negotiable."

They were both looking at him like they were ready to go up in arms, fending off any fight he may put up and insisting on having it their way.

But Lance wasn't going to fight them. He didn't _want_ to protest this.

Tears were welling up in his eyes again, spilling rapidly out onto his cheeks. They were not tears of sadness this time.

Adam and Shiro seemed to think they were. Shiro placed a hand on the back of his head when he felt the wetness soaking through his shirt, offering another soft _shhhh_ as he brushed stray strands of hair back from the teenager's forehead. Adam's thumb was rubbing the back of his hand, a mildly panicked look on his face.

"We didn't mean to upset you," Adam said sorrowfully. "We just want to help."

Adam's look of despair turned into one of utter confusion when Lance barked out a laugh, a watery smile on his face in spite of himself.

"I'm not upset," Lance gasped. "I'm just - _thank you._ I don't d-deserve you guys. You're too nice to me. Thank you _s-so_ much."

The tension and confusion broke. He physically felt Shiro's muscles relaxing beneath him.

"You more than deserve it." He felt Shiro's lips turning up into a smile of their own where he pressed the words against the crown of Lance's head. "But you're very welcome, buddy."

"You're going to be okay, Lance," Adam said, the third small, bittersweet smile added to the mix. "We're not giving up on you. Please don't give up on us."

"I won't," Lance promised, and was surprised to find he meant it.


	45. fall in love? (if i ever did that, i think i'd have a heart attack)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In hindsight, it was probably a bad idea to get in the shower, knowing that not only the neighboring rooms but the entire second floor was empty, with thoughts of Lance flooding his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fair warning: this is the first chapter containing an (actual, consensual, smutty) sex scene. 
> 
> kind of. you'll see. just read it.
> 
> enjoy!

Keith was worried about Lance.

He worried about Lance _constantly_ , to be fair. He'd been worried for a while now. But he was especially worried that night.

Shiro and Adam didn't call family meetings for just anything. Whatever they wanted to talk to Lance about, it was a big deal. And Keith didn't have any experience with having another kid around the house, but he felt like the fact that they'd called a one-on-one meeting with Lance rather than a true family meeting added a whole 'nother level of heaviness.

Or maybe he was being too protective again, and he just needed to take a hot shower and go to bed.

There was nothing Keith could do about the former, so he opted for cleansing and rest.

In hindsight, it was probably a bad idea to get in the shower, knowing that not only the neighboring rooms but the entire second floor was empty, with thoughts of Lance flooding his mind.

Specifically, thoughts of Lance on the walk home just hours earlier. The slight blush on his face and the way he bit his lip when Keith called him a saint. The sound of his laughter, which Keith was certain acted as a drug to the soul. Just - _everything_ about him. Perfect. Gorgeous. So fucking wonderful.

Keith was sick. He really was. But he couldn't help it.

His hand was wrapped around his cock before he could convince himself not to, and he stroked himself to hardness with ease.

The familiar lightning of arousal raced from his crotch to his stomach and thighs. His heart and breath rates caught onto the nature of the activity, speeding up so that his air came in short, quiet gasps and pants.

He pictured Lance, smiling, letting Keith kiss him, kissing him back with fervor, _wanting_ him back. He imagined that beautiful sub unraveling beneath his hands, moaning and screaming in pleasure as Keith took him from behind. He thought of a multitude of hickeys around a royal blue collar with a silver _K_ placed front and center.

And Keith came. He came probably harder than he ever had, biting down on his tongue to keep from crying out in ecstasy as his own hot release spilled over his hand. Indescribable _bliss_ raced through his veins, and his legs felt like jelly when it finally began to fade.

Lance was it. He didn't want any other sub. This was all he'd ever wanted.

And the sad part was, it was just a picture in his head, still so far out of reach. Lance was not in any mental condition, Keith knew, to wear a harness and be chained to a bed and call Keith _Sir_ as he was spanked and fucked raw. Maybe he never would be.

Keith was the sickest fuck in the _entire_ universe, lusting so desperately after a boy who had not so long ago been fighting for his own life.

He really, _really_ couldn't help it.

All he could do was keep it to himself, and not force Lance into anything he didn't want or wasn't ready for. But Keith was certain there was nothing he could do to make these thoughts ever leave him alone. They would follow him to his grave.

He finished the actual showering part of his shower, mechanically going through the motions of cleansing himself, and tried to push down the burning hot magma of private mortification rising in his throat to remind him of what he'd just done.

_God, I'm so fucking whipped._


	46. flesh and bone, rolling stone (the experts say i'm delirious)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dr. Heigel nodded slowly. Her eyes were fixed on him far too intensely. He could feel the hundreds, maybe thousands of questions burning inside of them, just waiting to be aimed at him like bullets. Bullets he wanted to dodge but probably shouldn't, if he knew what was good for him.
> 
> Lance sighed. It was going to be a long thirty minutes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHH DID THE LAST CHAPTER KILL U? it slayed me writing it oml *fans self like a southern belle*
> 
> ANYWAYS back to serious sad stuff like depression and trauma and therapy. enjoy!

"So, Lance. What brings you here today?"

Lance shifted awkwardly on the corner of the couch. He pulled his feet slowly onto the cushions, drawing his knees up to his chest, watching the woman's face all the while for signs of disapproval.

She _had_ said to make himself at home. This was how he sat at home. It was comfortable and safe, all of his vital organs safely encased behind the shell of his legs.

The woman, thankfully, wasn't even watching his movements. Her eyes, twinkling-bright and kind, were locked on his own.

Lance was momentarily struck by the irony of a woman who sat listening to people cry about horror and trauma and agony all day long having a merry sparkle in her eyes, but that was neither here nor there.

"They told you on the phone," he mumbled, staring pointedly at the small hole on the hem of his Garrison uniform shirt as he picked at it. He really should ask Shiro to get him a new one. He was going to get written up if a Professor saw a hole or loose strong.

"They did," the woman confirmed patiently. "They told me you're a victim of repeated sexual assault by various perpetrators, and that you struggle with denying a Dom's order or request more than is normal or healthy. And also that you're suicidal, of course."

Lance grimaced at the more or less accurate summary. Not pulling any punches, then.

"Are you always so frank?"

The woman smirked a little as she told him, "My name is Dr. Penelope Heigel, not Frank."

That did pull a small smile from Lance, a single corner of his lips twitching upward ( _the same way Keith smiles_ , a thought flashed through his mind.)

"You remind me of Shiro," Lance said, hoping she would take it as a compliment, because it was.

"How so?" Dr. Heigel asked. Which Lance was okay with, and more than willing to elaborate on, really.

But he wished she wouldn't poise her stylus over her notepad like that as she asked. Like she was readying herself to record all of his darkest, deepest personal secrets in a digital database for all of eternity.

Lance continued, anyway, trying to surpress the sense of insecurity, of not being _safe_ , that was beginning to well up in his chest. Shiro and Adam were paying out of the ass for a mere thirty-minute introduction session, just to see if this particular doctor and practice were a "good fit." He wasn't going to waste their hard-earned money like a dick.

"He makes a lot of dad jokes," he said. "And you - you know - make mom jokes, I guess. Are you a mom, Penelope? Let's talk about you. That's a lovely collar. Real gold?"

"Nice try."

Lance felt a deep blush rising to the tips of his ears. He'd been trying to channel his old self; the Lance he was with Veronica and Rachel (and even, on occasion, with Luis and Marco). The Lance he was with Hunk, for a short while. The Lance he was before his entire life was torn to shreds.

He supposed he hadn't been quite convincing enough. That seemed to be his motto as of late, didn't it? Not good enough. Almost, but falling just ever so slightly short. The universe really loved to tease him.

"Sorry," Lance was back to his hushed, hesitant mumbles. "That was rude. Just...trying to lighten the mood."

"Don't apologize, Lance. You have a great sense of humor. Do people tell you that often?"

"No. I mean, they used to. Just not anymore."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm not funny anymore."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't make jokes anymore, okay? And _please_ don't ask why not. I just...don't. I don't think about it. That's all."

Dr. Heigel nodded slowly. Her eyes were fixed on him far too intensely. He could feel the hundreds, maybe thousands of questions burning inside of them, just waiting to be aimed at him like bullets. Bullets he wanted to dodge but probably shouldn't, if he knew what was good for him.

Lance sighed. It was going to be a _long_ thirty minutes.


	47. standing in the eye of the storm, my eyes start to roam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Wow, Kogane. Are you asking me out on a date? Smooth."
> 
> Keith knew Lance was joking, obviously. Just playing around. Just goofing off.
> 
> Keith's stomach, on the other hand...
> 
> "I mean - kind of? I guess."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> y'all…i am TEARING UP. we are officially halfway thru this fic. like wow. 21 days and 47 chapters down, 21 days and 46 chapters to go.
> 
> don't mind me i'm just being sentimental and emotional over my own writing again ANYWAYS HERE ENJOY SOME SOFT KLANCE SHIT YEET

Keith was not much for fidgeting, but he could have sworn he felt his entire body vibrating as he paced the waiting room in a quaint little psychologist practice on a gorgeous Thursday afternoon.

It hadn't take much convincing, once Keith was informed that Lance was going to begin seeing a therapist every Thursday after school, for Adam and Shiro to let Keith be Lance's main escort from the Garrison, to his appointments, and back home again. The second Keith brought up the idea, Lance shot the two adults a pleading look over the dinner table.

Keith kept a straight face and tried to pretend that Lance _wanting_ Keith to walk him to and from his appointments didn't send warmth tingling through his fingertips.

(But it did.)

And Keith was happy to do this for Lance. He really was. It was no big secret that Lance felt safest around him. He would do anything to make Lance feel safe.

But he'd severely underestimated how long a thirty-minute wait could drag itself out.

How long had it been? Surely they'd already far surpassed half of an hour. Keith felt like he'd been waiting, pacing, for at least a week. The other patients and patient escorts, sitting so nicely in their chairs like normal people, sighed and glared at him continuously. Keith paid them no mind. Their annoyance barely registered.

All he could think about was Lance.

Lance was all he ever thought about anymore, really.

A year ago, if you'd told him that his every waking thought and nighttime dream would be completely overwhelmed by a single sub, Keith might have thrown hands. Or laughed hysterically. Or both. He certainly wouldn't have believed you for a second.

It wasn't like him to be so caught up in a delusional desire for love. Koganes were known for many things. Long-lasting, happy, loving claims did not make that particular list.

Was it too late to break this cycle; a centuries-old family tradition? To stray off the weary, beaten path of loneliness and heartbreak that his father had unknowingly lead him down?

Maybe. But that sure as hell wasn't going to stop Keith from trying.

Finally, _finally_ , the first door to the left in a hall behind the receptionist's desk creaked open.

Lance emerged looking somehow simultaneously burned out and relaxed, the doctor whose name Keith had already forgotten trailing behind him with a bounce in her step.

"It was so nice to meet you, Lance," the doctor said warmly, offering Lance a hand to shake. Keith wasn't nearly as bothered by the goodbye handshake as he had been by the introductory one, now that he'd caught sight of the slim rose-gold collar around the therapist's neck. _Not a predator. Not a Dom. Won't hurt him. Safe, Lance is safe._ "I hope you'll come back and see me again; I think we really hit it off."

Lance's body language gave off an awkward vibe, like he wasn't quite sure how to respond to that. At least he didn't look uncomfortable. "Uh - thanks. Nice to meet you, too."

Keith had to try very, very hard to not grip Lance tight, pull him into an all-encompassing embrace, and demand to know every little detail, every last word. He very nearly did so before he caught himself, hands clenched tight in his pockets, teeth biting down onto his tongue.

But Lance walked toward him with a small, tired sort of smile on his face and invited _himself_ into a hug. He leaned his own chest into Keith's, arms wrapped snug around his waist, closing the mere two inch height diference between them when he leaned down to bury his nose in the crook of Keith's neck.

Keith held onto him like a lifeline, hands twisting in the back of Lance's too-baggy uniform shirt. If it were up to him, he never would have let go.

But time did, unfortunately, have to continue on its steady way.

Lance pulled away first, still smiling ever so slightly, looking utterly worn.

Keith almost backed out, then. He almost thought twice about his own plan for this afternoon, the conversation he wanted to have, the words he'd been cycling through in his head all day long, rewriting and revising until they sounded just right (and then revising them some more.)

He didn't. Keith felt his entire body quivering finely with anticipation, with fear of the unknown, and he hoped Lance wouldn't notice. But he wasn't about to cower away from this. If he didn't take the leap while his courage was at its peak, he might not leap at all.

It was now or never.

"There's a lake nearby," Keith blurted out.

Lance blinked at him.

It was, admittedly, a weird first thing to say after giving your best friend a hug straight out of their introductory therapy session. Keith supposed that was his cut-to-the-chase nature at work. Most likely it was nerves (but that sounded a whole lot more pathetic.)

"That's...cool?" Lance said uncertainly.

"It's - really nice out today. And it's, like, a nice lake. We should...do you want to go for a walk?"

It was a stupid suggestion, Keith realized too late. They had to go on a long walk to get home, anyways. Why would they take the time to stop and stroll around a manmade body of water?

Lance either didn't realize the invalidity of the idea, or he just didn't care. His wary confusion was replaced by a good-natured smirk. Teasing was a relatively new look on Lance - at least as far as Keith was concerned, not having known him for too terribly long - but it was quickly becoming one of his favorites.

"Wow, Kogane. Are you asking me out on a _date?_ Smooth."

Keith knew Lance was joking, _obviously_. Just playing around. Just goofing off.

Keith's stomach, on the other hand...

"I mean - kind of? I guess."

It wasn't simply butterflies that he felt. Butterflies doing olympic-level gymnast somersaults would be a more apt description.

"Oh." Lance froze momentarily in surprise. His smile fell a little, but not in a bad way, much to Keith's relief. More in a _didn't see that one coming_ kind of way. "You actually... _oh_."

"Unless you don't want to." Keith spoke quickly, defensively, arms coming up over his chest. "It's - that's fine. If you're not interested like that. It's fine -"

"I am. Interested, I mean. Like that."

_How? You're so perfect. You're not just out of my league, you're out of everyone's league. You're too good for this world. You're a fallen angel. No human being is worthy of you._

Keith wasn't about to go looking a gift horse in the mouth. His unworthy ass would snatch up any opportunity that presented itself like there was no fucking tomorrow.

"Good. Me, too..." Keith paused. "Which you already knew. Because I just said it. And, fuck, you probably already knew, anyway - secrets _really_ aren't my thing -"

"Keith? You're rambling."

Keith was so unused to this. So unaccustomed to not feeling confident and sure, to not being the calm and casual one in his and Lance's many scenarios. It was unsettling. At least Lance seemed to be entertained by his fumbling. He wasn't even trying to mask his amusement.

He didn't wear masks with Keith. Not anymore. They both knew he didn't have to.

"Right." The Dom cleared his throat. "So I guess we should, uh - go, then."

"Yup. Go on our _date._ "

"Jesus fucking Christ, I swear to God -"

"Oh, will we be stopping by a place of worship on our _date?_ "

"Keep saying the word date. Watch me not hold a single fucking door for you, asshole."

"It _is_ a date, though. Aw, Keith - wait up! Don't make me hold this for myself! We're on a _date!_ "


	48. to the curl of your lips in the center of eclipse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance stood on a narrow concrete sidewalk winding around a lake that was dug by excavators but was beautiful nonetheless, looking into the eyes of a boy who was scarred and chipped and sharp around the edges (but beautiful, nonetheless.)
> 
> Looking into Keith's eyes, Lance realized, with another lightning bolt of excitement striking in his chest and sending sparks throughout his limbs - looking into Keith's eyes felt exactly like coming home.

Lance was beginning to think he'd made an awful decision in repeatedly calling their little lake-stroll a _date_ to get on Keith's nerves.

Because it sunk in, once they were actually, technically on said date - that they were _on a date._

He had grown accustomed to his heart pounding and his throat closing up in the throes of panic. What he was neither used to nor expecting was for his heart to flutter and race in...excitement? Something that felt a lot like it, at least.

"How'd it go?" Keith asked after a stretch of silence far too long to be comfortable for either party. His gaze was fixed on his shoes; Lance's, somewhere near Keith's face but not quite on it.

Lance shrugged. "I mean, it wasn't _horrible_. She was nice and all."

Keith looked at him, one eyebrow raised. "I sense a 'but.'"

" _But_ \- I just...I don't know." Lance sighed. He watched the way their steps shuffled together, out of sync but in time. "It's weird that, like, I'm telling this stranger all this stuff. Stuff I haven't even told you."

Lance glanced hesitantly at Keith via his peripheral vision. Part of him had been expecting Keith to take some sort of offense to that. Keith didn't look offended in the slightest. He only looked thoughtful.

"That's her job," Keith pointed out. "You know? You're supposed to be able to tell her things you don't want to tell people you're attached to. Because she's not that special or important to you. So it's easier, I guess."

It was Lance's turn to quirk a questioning brow. That was a very specific and detailed explanation of therapy from a boy who'd supposedly refused court-suggested therapy on multiple occassions.

Keith caught the look and sighed.

"Don't tell Adam and Shiro I told you this," he warned. Lance nodded earnestly.

He did not miss the way Keith leaned in much closer than necessary, under the blatantly false pretense of avoiding being overheard. There was nobody around; Keith's shoulder brushed his anyway. Lance's heart did that flippity thing professional chefs do with pancakes, over and over and over again in rapid succession.

"Adam has, like, chronic depression," Keith murmured, as if anybody could be listening in. Then added, at Lance's alarmed and concerned look, "Not _bad_. He doesn't get, like, suicidal. And he's not _always_ depressed. He goes through these...seasons...where he has trouble getting out of bed, and doing stuff. He barely eats and he sleeps a lot - just loses interest in pretty much everything. But he's doing really good right now."

"That's...wow. I would never have known."

"Yeah. He's been mostly okay for the past couple years. But he always said therapy helped a lot, back when he still went. He said he could tell the doctor things he was afraid would hurt me and Shiro, or upset us, or make us worry or whatever."

"Pretty accurate," Lance confirmed. Keith gave him an odd sort of look, almost like he was sizing him up. Lance gulped. "What?"

"You can tell me _all_ of that shit," the Dom said firmly. "Even if it'll upset me, or make me worry. And I probably won't know what to _do_ about it like a doctor would. But you can tell me dark shit, if you need to talk and you can't wait for an appointment. I don't mind."

That donation of time and sanity was, easily, the second most generous offer anyone had ever extended to Lance. The third being Keith using all of his own meager earnings to ensure Lance did not go hungry.

The first was Shiro and Adam, accepting him into their home with open arms, tossing money at a whole new wardrobe and quality mental health care for a kid they barely knew. Just because he needed it and nobody else would, and they were there, so why not?

Lance would never understand what he'd done to deserve stumbling upon the three kindest people to ever exist, but he certainly wasn't complaining.

"That's really sweet," Lance whispered. He was relieved to discover the lump of emotion he was expecting to rise in his throat did not come; no tears formed in his dry ducts. "Thank you, Keith. Seriously."

Keith slowed to an abnormally slow pace, letting Lance ahead a few steps, looking at him with an unreadable array of emotion. "You're welcome."

The sub paused when Keith did, both pairs of feet faltering to a stop in unison.

Lance stood on a narrow concrete sidewalk winding around a lake that was dug by excavators but was beautiful nonetheless, looking into the eyes of a boy who was scarred and chipped and sharp around the edges ( _but beautiful, nonetheless_.)

A boy who knew Lance was so intensely screwed up, but chose to play stupid card games with him anyway. A boy who wanted Lance to spew his darkest secrets to help lighten his soul, and grew enraged when his safety was threatened, and took him on a silly little spur-of-the-moment lake date just for the hell of it.

Looking into Keith's eyes, Lance realized, with another lightning bolt of excitement striking in his chest and sending sparks throughout his limbs - looking into Keith's eyes felt exactly like coming home.

And suddenly that expression didn't seem so unreadable anymore, because Lance knew he must have been wearing the same one himself. It read _love._

Keith was _right there_ , so close to him, close enough to -

"Keith," Lance breathed, heart pounding in the best way. "Can I..."

"Can you what?" Keith's voice was a whisper, too, soft and knowing.

"Can we..." Lance took a deep breath and exhaled shakily. "Please just kiss me."

The Dom needed no further invitation. His hands were on Lance's face instantly, cradling him, mouth ghosting hot breath over the sub's for a few seconds before it captured his.

Shockwaves of electricity pulsed through his body. Because for the first time in his life, Lance was being kissed by somebody he actually _wanted._ Somebody he'd asked for. And Keith's tongue gently slipping into his mouth, exploring, kind and sweet, was so _entirely_ different than the ugly clashes of teeth and spit he'd known before.

Lance couldn't even bring himself to be embarassed by the quiet moan rising from his throat, Keith gladly swallowing the sound. It felt _good_. So, _so_ good. Was this what it was supposed to feel like?

It could have been seconds or days before they pulled apart. It didn't matter. It was still too soon.

Lance breathed a little unevenly, pressing his forehead to Keith's. One of the hands cradling his face moved to his hair, fingers gripping tightly, in a way that showcased dominance without suffering. Something Lance had been starting to doubt was even possible, being dominated without being in utter pain.

And yet, here they were.

"That was nice," Lance murmured, not sure what else he should say. Keith huffed out a breath of laughter, his handsome _feels-so-good_ mouth smiling.

"It was," he agreed. "We should do it again sometime."

"I hope by 'sometime' you mean right now."

"That's exactly what I meant."

Lance thought earlier that looking into Keith's eyes felt like home, and he wasn't wrong. But if his eyes were coming home, then his mouth was the lover you curled up warm in bed with at the end of a long day. Lance wondered if that was how Keith's body worked; each place becoming more intimate and special and warm as one worked their way down.

He had the surprising, but not in any way unwelcome, thought that he would love to find out.

_I think I'm gonna be okay._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHHHHH?!
> 
> i'm partially screaming out of excitement bc i FINALLY get to post this chapter but also because of how fucking busy this week is for me? like why does the VERY WEEK that s8 drops have to be the busiest week i've had in months.
> 
> today: gotta go to the church we rented for our preschool Christmas program (I'm a 2 year olds teacher) right after work because we're having a rehearsal for the program  
> tomorrow: babysitting some kids straight after work, not going home in between, will be there for hours  
> thursday: the actual Christmas program, right after work. have to go home right after the program and try to catch a few hours of sleep before...  
> friday: wake up at 2:45 AM for when s8 drops at 3am. i'm gonna watch the last episode first because I wont have time to watch the entire season before I leave for work and I dont wanna be left on a cliffhanger. also, you know, gotta find out if klance is in fact canon king. i'll probs watch the first few episodes after I watch the last one, then watch the rest when I get home that night.  
> saturday: up bright and early that morning for a work staff party, then babysitting again that night (for a different child)
> 
> wish me fuckin luck fam


	49. take the chance, take the chance (i wanna hold your hand)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I asked him to kiss me."
> 
> Shiro blinked. This night was...just turning up all sorts of surprises, wasn't it?

There was nothing in the world that tasted so bitter, Shiro was sure, as having to swallow the pill of defeat.

Or perhaps it was just the nature of _this_ particular defeat. The cruel, inhumane injustice of it, which was unbearable.

Because the computer light in front of him was maniacal and gloating as it boasted a harsh truth: Iverson was entirely correct. There was little to nothing they could do to win a legal battle on Lance's behalf.

There would be no justice.

Not that Shiro hadn't tried. Not that he hadn't been up for _hours_ now, the time nearing two in the morning, long after Adam had given up on getting him to come to bed and shuffled off to their room alone.

Not that he hadn't called nearly every damn law firm in Plant City, met with varying degrees of sympathy as they "regretfully" informed him that they could not take such a case.

_No proof,_ they said. _No proof that he didn't want it._

It seemed the only proof anyone would accept was an eyewitness account.

Shiro was devastated - but not only for Lance. There was also the burning, sickening disgust and anger of realizing that most subs who were assaulted likely had similar experiences. How often was it that there just so happened to be a witness?

Would that be Lance's story? Would he walk around for the rest of his life with a gaping open wound on his heart and a mentality of self-blame, because everyone could only nod along sadly as they _regretfully informed him_ that they didn't believe in his very real suffering?

The emotions this wrought were unexplainable. Shiro felt something deeper than rage, deeper than indignance, deeper than heartache - there were no words deep enough.

He'd promised Lance he would help him. He'd promised _himself_ the young Doms who hurt Lance wouldn't get off the hook without a fight.

He couldn't keep any of those promises, he was coming to realize, far too late. Shiro was entirely helpless. He was so unaccustomed to being helpless. It _sucked._

But the worst part was still yet to come. Because now he had to break all of this to Lance.

Lance, who was hurting to the point of being suicidal, had to be told that justice was not an option, not obtainable. Shiro rubbed a hand wearily down his face, slumping in the dining room chair. He felt guilty for wondering how long he could get away with flat-out avoiding the topic. Would giving Lance some more time to heal be compassionate? Or would the news sting worse the longer it went untold, fermenting in silence?

"Shiro?" A perpetually quiet voice called from the shadowy entryway into the living room.

_Speak of the devil, and he shall appear._

Except Lance was much less the devil and much more a fallen, broken angel, the shadows of his innocence and purity still plainly visible even after having it all ripped violently out of him.

God, he was just a _kid._ Who upstairs had pitched the bright idea of raining down all the wrath of hell upon this undeserving _child?_

Shiro forced himself to look Lance in the eye. The younger sub stood just outside the dining room, feet faltering as if he wasn't sure he would be welcome inside. His fingers twisted nervously in the hem of his pajama shirt. His _own_ shirt, finally, rather than Adam's, now that he'd had his wardrobe replenished.

Looking him in the eye was hard enough. Forcing an inviting smile onto his face was damn near impossible. Shiro did so anyway.

"Hey, buddy," Shiro said warmly, careful to keep any of his anger from becoming misplaced onto the teenager. "Everything okay? Did you have another nightmare?"

Lance stepped into the room, finally, squinting in the bright lighting. He hesitantly took the seat next to Shiro.

"I actually haven't slept yet," Lance said, gaze locked on his own socks. "I was trying, but..." He shrugged, glancing briefly up at Shiro. "Got a lot on my mind, you know?"

Shiro inhaled. Exhaled. Reminded himself to breathe.

Lance didn't deserve to have so much on his mind. He should be losing sleep over midterms and his crush not texting him back right away, not all of _this._

"Did you want to talk about it?" Shiro asked. He watched sorrowfully as Lance tensed on instinct at the suggestion, then very deliberately relaxed. To his own surprise, Lance nodded in confirmation.

"Yeah," he said in a small voice. "I just - something happened today. Nothing horrible!" He was quick to clarify, and Shiro was embarrased to realize he'd let rays of fear shine through the cracks in his mask. "But I, uh, need some advice. And, like...I don't have any other subs to talk to, you know?"

Shiro knew all too well, and he hated it.

He wished Lance was allowed to contact his mother. Wished she was allowed to respond without her Dom breathing over her shoulder, dictacting her response.

That was just the cherry on top, wasn't it? Not only was he a kid walking through hell - he was a kid walking through hell without his mother there to hold his hand.

Whatever advice he needed, Shiro was entirely certain Lance's mother could offer better wisdom than him. But he was all Lance had. And if he couldn't help him in a legal arena, he could at least help him at home.

"Sure, kiddo," he said with more certainty than he felt. "Shoot. What's your question?"

"So...okay. So, um..." Lance looked at him uncertainly, like he wasn't so sure he wanted to share anymore. Like he was afraid of the reaction he'd receive.

"Lance. You can ask me anything, alright? I'll never get mad at you for needing advice."

"...okay. Well. Keith, uh...Keith kissed me today."

If there was anything Shiro was expecting, it wasn't _that._

_Keith?_ Keith, who was helping Lance heal with newfound maturity and grace - Keith, who was so furious at the Doms who had taken advantage of Lance - was now out here trying to kiss him?

Shiro was fairly certain Lance was into girls. He'd watched the kid (subconciously, he assumed) checking out the pretty, big-busted cashier who'd helped them in the department store where they'd purchased the majority of his new clothes. And watching a female customer's hips swing as she walked away from the fitting rooms. And blushing when a Dom girl bumped into him in the check-out line then flashed him a flirtatious smile as she apologized.

And if Shiro's hunch regarding Lance's sexuality was correct, then he certainly didn't _want_ Keith to kiss him.

Shiro thought he should feel angry at his son, but he was mostly just... _confused_. There had to be some sort of misunderstanding here. Keith was certainly not the most socially aware person. Maybe he'd been momentarily blinded his own very obvious crush on Lance, and misunderstood Lance's reliance on their friendship for comfort as a return of romantic feelings.

But, regardless - this was _not_ okay.

"Don't worry," Shiro said firmly, momentarily faltering when Lance's eyes flashed with fear and regret. "I'll be having _words_ with Keith about this in the morning. I'm so sorry, Lance. Please tell me you at least pushed him away."

Lance's face heated up then, eyes going as wide as dinner plates and a furious red framing his still too prominant cheekbones.

"No, no, no!" He waved his hands frantically in front of him, then slapped them to his face, hiding his blush beneath his palms. "It wasn't - _ugh_ , God. I _asked_ him to kiss me."

Shiro blinked. This night was...just turning up _all_ sorts of surprises, wasn't it?

"Oh. Wow. Um, okay. I'm sorry, I just, uh, a-assumed you liked girls," Shiro stuttered through some strange form of apology. "You looked like you were _checking out_ the cashier who was checking out your clothes in the store the other day."

Lance peeked at him from behind his fingers. "I was. She was hot." The boy breathed in deep through his nose. "Don't tell Keith I said that."

Shiro fought off a small smirk. Now that the initial surprise had worn off, amusement was taking its place. He couldn't exactly say this was an unexpected development, in hindsight. He was probably just incredibly blind. Too blind to be parenting these two disastrous teenagers, that was for damn sure.

To be fair, he'd been a bit preoccupied lately.

Shiro surreptitiously closed the lid of his computer, hoping Lance hadn't already peeked at the headline of the article open there: _Sexual Assault Cases in a Court of Law: The Do's and Don't's of Evidence._

"Sorry, buddy." He chuckled a little when Lance glared at him (without much real heat.) "I didn't know you were bi. I shouldn't have assumed. That's my bad."

Lance's hands dropped from his face fully, then. He looked taken aback, as if Shiro had said something he wasn't expecting. Then realization of something seemed to dawn.

"Oh," he said weakly. "I guess that's...normal? Liking boys _and_ girls? That's...that's good to know."

"Of course it's normal." Shiro frowned, his playful mood waning. "You're allowed to like whoever you want, Lance. Did anyone tell you that's _not_ normal?"

Lance was silent for a moment, like he needed to take the time and try to remember.

"Not in so many words," he finally said. "But you're - you're okay with me...kissing Keith?"

"Again, _of course_." Shiro's smile was back again, and it must have been infectious, because Lance smiled slightly in return. "As long as you're both consenting parties, I don't see why that would be a problem."

He couldn't quite bring himself to feign shock over the new development, now that he was aware of Lance's consent and willingness. He was honestly surprised Keith hadn't made the first move. Shiro felt a swell of pride in his chest at the thought of Keith, pining desperately after a sub, but holding back for the sake of said sub's wellbeing.

He and Adam really did know how to raise a great kid, didn't they?

"Good," Lance said. He blew out a breath of relief, shoulders sagging. "Because there's something else, too."

_Uh-oh._ Another good something, hopefully. Shiro had the childish urge to cross his fingers for luck. He didn't (but it was tempting.)

"I think..." Lance gulped, his expression set and certain as he locked eyes with Shiro.

"You think what, bud? It's alright. You can tell me anything."

Shiro thought he was prepared.

"I think I want Keith to be my Dom."

He was, in fact, not prepared.


	50. the seams have come undone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith was a nosy little fucker. He knew he was. Shiro and Adam certainly had to have figured out by that point that even saving a conversation for two in the morning would not stop him from eavesdropping.
> 
> But it wasn't Adam's voice that accompanied Shiro's. It was Lance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so obviously i've KNOWN that s8 is coming out on Friday morning since the day they announced it but like...the reality of it is JUST now hitting me???
> 
> like klance is actually going to fucking be canon king in less than 36 hours. i'm having heart palpitations help
> 
> anyways ENJOY PILL #50

Why was it that every time Keith got out of bed in the middle of the night, the weirdest shit happened?

He got out of bed to go get a drink of water, and he found his parents making out on the couch. He got out of bed to go pee, and he stubbed his toes three goddamn times on the way.

He got out of bed after jolting awake from a horrible nightmare, feeling an itch deep in his bones to check on Lance, to make sure he was doing alright, sleeping soundly. He crept down the stairs in a bit of a panic after finding Lance's door open and his bed empty, and heard two hushed voices coming from the dining room, light spilling out from the kitchen into the living area.

Keith was a nosy little fucker. He knew he was. Shiro and Adam certainly had to have figured out by that point that even saving a conversation for two in the morning would not stop him from eavesdropping.

But it wasn't Adam's voice that accompanied Shiro's. It was Lance.

He sunk to sit at the bottom of the stairs, the adrenaline of worry buzzing in his veins taken over by relief that Lance was still okay, still in the house, still safe. His nightmare had seemed determined to convince him otherwise.

That is, there was relief until he heard his name. Realized he was being talked about in the middle of the night by his father and his (crush? Romantic interest? What did the kiss make them? Fuck if he knew) best friend.

"Don't tell Keith I said that," Lance's words drifted toward him from a distance.

_Tell me you said what?_ His heart began to pound again. This sub really knew how to put him on an emotional fucking rollercoaster.

"Sorry, buddy," Shiro laughed. "I didn't know you were bi. I shouldn't have assumed. That's my bad."

Keith hadn't known that, either, until now. Hadn't really cared, frankly. All he knew was that there was no way in hell he was going to turn down Lance standing in front of him, eyes wide and sparkling, asking to be kissed.

"Oh. I guess that's...normal? Liking boys and girls? That's...that's good to know."

"Of course it's normal. You're allowed to like whoever you want, Lance. Did anyone tell you that's not normal?"

_They better fucking not have. Give me names, I'll fucking show them some abnormal behavior._

"Not in so many words." _Good_. "But you're - you're okay with me...kissing Keith?"

Keith hadn't really thought about that. With his tongue inside Lance's fucking mouth, his parents were truly the last thing on his mind. But now that the question had been raised, he wondered. _Would_ Shiro be okay with that? Maybe he thought Lance wasn't ready. Maybe he thought Keith was trying to take advantage of him.

"Again, of course. As long as you're both consenting parties, I don't see why that would be a problem."

"Good." Lance's voice portrayed the intense relief Keith was feeling right along with him. "Because there's something else, too. I think..."

There was a long pause. Keith stopped breathing for a moment, chest tight.

He so fucking hoped Lance hadn't changed his mind about all this. Hadn't decided he didn't really want to kiss him, after all. But Keith would understand if he had.

"You think what, bud? It's alright. You can tell me anything."

_Yes. Please, tell him._

"I think I want Keith to be my Dom."

The words crashed into him like a tidal wave, taking him under, and taking his actual fucking grip on sanity along with it.

_Oh, God. I want that, too. I want you to be mine. I want you to love me as much as I love you. I want that so much, beautiful. So fucking much._

There were actual, real, goddamn _tears_ in his eyes. Who _was_ he?

"Oh...wow. Lance, buddy, are you...are you sure you're ready for something like that? It's okay if you just want to get to know him a little better first."

_Don't fucking discourage him, you dipshit!_

But Lance was far from discouraged. He sounded more certain that Keith had ever heard him.

"I don't need to. I know him. And I want him to claim me. I just don't know if, you know...if _he_ wants that."

_I do, I do, oh my God I swear I do just ask me I do._

Shiro laughed a little. "Trust me, Lance. He definitely does."

_I take it back. You're not a dipshit. You're the best dad ever, I love you._

"How do you know?"

"Because I know my kid. And it's obvious to me and Adam both that he's hardcore pining for you. I think he has been for a while."

"O-oh. That's...that's good."

"Lance," Shiro chuckled again. "I'm telling you, bud, all you have to do is ask him. If you think you're really ready, that is."

"I...I am. I'm definitely ready. But I don't want to ask him."

Keith felt his entire world trembling, suddenly, threatening to come crashing down on top of him. The intimidating quake ceased when Lance continued:

"He's the Dom, isn't he? If he wants me like you say he does, _he_ can ask _me_."

Keith could practically _see_ Lance's expression in his mind's eye. Head held high - something he'd only been doing so recently, something Keith adored - and chin stuck out in stubborn defiance.

_God, you absolute brat. You fucking gorgeous little brat. You're a total pillow princess, aren't you? I love it. I love you._

Shiro's laughter was hardly containable anymore. Keith wouldn't be surprised if a sleepy Adam came down the stairs, awoken by it, and caught him. Still, he didn't move. He couldn't. He was helplessly frozen in the moment, entranced by it.

"You know what? You're right, kiddo. He's the Dom. He should be the one to ask, shouldn't he? I wish you'd been around all those years ago to spread the wisdom of chivalry to Adam."

"Still need me to? I can. Does he hold doors open for you? Keith doesn't."

Both subs were laughing, then. The sound of chairs scraping away from the table shook Keith out of his stupor. He clambered to his feet and reluctantly made his way back up the stairs. They were saying something else, their voices audible from the top step but not their words. Keith wanted desperately to know what those final words _were._

But not enough to risk giving himself away.

"Goodnight, Shiro." _Those_ words, in Lance's sweet, affectionate tone, Keith could make out - because they were much closer now.

Keith somehow managed to stumble his way back to his bedroom in a haze, clicking the door shut as quietly as possible and leaning back against it as two pairs of footsteps padded down the hall in opposite directions.

He stayed there for a long few minutes, body in a state of flux. His entire being was caught somewhere in the grey area between elation and terror.

_What the fuck just happened?_


	51. those three words are said too much (they're not enough)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith did not squirm or shift. He was steady; he was sure.
> 
> "No. You heard me right," he said firmly, looking up to meet Adam's bewildered gaze with a fiery determination. "I want to claim a sub. I want a sub collar."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> random shoutout to my tumblr fam fandommaster101 bc she asked for one and she deserves one. LY BOO

When Adam asked his very soon-to-be eighteen year old son what he wanted for his upcoming birthday, he knew exactly what kind of response to expect. It varied by year, but there had only ever been two answers to the question.

Keith used to heatedly insist that he didn't celebrate his birthday, and would quickly grow angry at the slightest mention of gifts or cake. The past couple of years, he'd half-heartedly shrugged and said something along the lines of _I don't know, cash, I guess_. Mostly because he'd realized that saying _nothing_ was a lost cause, and he would most definitely be getting something anyway.

At this point, Adam asked mostly just to drive home the point that Keith's birthday would _not_ be allowed to slip by uncelebrated.

But this year, for the first time ever, he received a real answer.

He nearly dropped the pot of cooked angel hair noodles he was transferring from the stovetop to the collander, simply out of shock, when Keith spoke quietly from the table, eyes still transfixed on his homework: "A sub collar."

"A _what?_ " He said dumbly. "Keith, son, did I hear you correctly, or am I just getting old?"

Keith did not squirm or shift. He was steady; he was sure.

"No. You heard me right," he said firmly, looking up to meet Adam's bewildered gaze with a fiery determination. "I want to claim a sub. I want a sub collar."

Adam knew, of course, that Lance was the sub in question. There was no other viable option.

With a sense of pride and a bittersweet thought of _when did you grow up? Who said you were allowed to become an adult? Stop that right now_ playing in his mind, Adam nodded.

"Alright," he said, smiling at the look of relief on his son's face. "Guess you and I have some shopping to do, then."


	52. this paradise has become a place we come to cry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith stared. Lance was...sincere. Genuine. Like he really wanted to know; like he really cared when and where and why Keith had come to hate the anniversary of his own birth.
> 
> He averted his gaze to the ceiling and took a breath that stuttered, swallowing thickly.
> 
> "My tenth birthday," he said slowly. "First one after my dad died. That was when I started hating it."

"Hey, Keith?"

"Hm?"

"Why don't you like your birthday?"

Keith shifted awkardly where he lay on the couch with Lance resting on his chest. The sub's gaze was still focused on the TV screen, but it was clear he wasn't paying attention, merely trying to act nonchalant as he awaited a response.

His hand paused for a moment where it was running absentmindedly through Lance's hair, fingers intertwined in messy strands. He only continued when Lance nuzzled his head back against Keith's palm to remind him.

How was he supposed to answer that?

The truth seemed like a good place to start. But Keith hardly wanted to ruin their sweet after-school couch cuddles with stories of the horrific thing that was the foster care system.

Part of Keith wanted to share the truth, anyway. Lance deserved as much. He'd been lied to far too much already in his life.

He settled for a half-truth.

"Nobody ever cared about it," he said stiffly. He looked down at Lance's face, watching as it twisted up with a troubled frown. "Not after my dad died. So I just...stopped caring, I guess."

"Shiro said you used to get angry about it," Lance pressed. "You wouldn't get angry over something you just didn't care about."

Keith faltered. "I get angry over everything, though," he tried, weakly.

Lance turned his head on Keith's chest to face him, then, looking up at him with sad eyes.

"No, you don't," he said softly. "You just want everyone to think you do. Because it's easier to be angry than to be in pain."

And if that didn't just hit the nail right on the goddamn head.

Keith didn't know what to say, what to think, what to feel. He was legitimately incapable of getting angry at Lance - but if anybody else had said those words to him, anger would have been his natural response. Get angry. Push them away. Pretend they weren't right. Without the option of rage, he was a fish out of water, desperate, lost.

Which...kind of proved Lance's point, actually.

"I'm a Dom," he said off-handedly, his eyes searching beautiful baby blues as he spoke. "I'm not supposed to be weak. I'm _not_ weak."

Keith felt horrible for the look of _devastation_ that crossed Lance's face. He felt even more horrible that he couldn't even pinpoint exactly what had caused it, or how to fix it.

"You don't have to be weak to be _sad_." Lance sounded like he was starting to get angry, himself. It was a look on him that was brand new to Keith. He didn't think he liked it very much. "You're allowed to be sad. And you're allowed to _tell_ me why you're sad. I want to help."

"I'm not sad."

"Yes, you are. I asked Adam earlier why you've been so quiet today. He said you always get like that when your birthday is coming up."

"Maybe I just don't want to talk about it."

" _I_ talk to _you_ when I'm sad."

Keith winced. Lance was really a lot fucking smarter than he seemed upon first impression. And a lot more manipulative.

"I don't like - talking about feelings and shit." Which was really fucking rich considering he was feeling an unfamiliar lump of emotion rise in his throat, something wet pricking at his eyes and forming beneath his lower lid. "Not my own, at least. Yours are fine. Mine are just...weird."

"It's the same feelings. Just with different reasons. Why can't you talk about them, too?"

"You've been through hell, Lance. You _need_ to talk about that."

"Have you?"

"Have I what?"

"Been through hell."

_Yes. Not as bad as your hell, so it doesn't matter. I shouldn't and won't burden you with my problems. They're petty in comparison. But yes, I have._

"Depends on who you ask," Keith said.

Lance huffed as he shimmied off of his side and onto his stomach, propping his elbows on Keith's ribcage to hold himself up.

"That's bull," he said, frowning in disapproval. "I'm asking _you_ right now. What do _you_ think?"

"It doesn't matter."

"It matters to me. You know how you hate it when I'm having a bad day? I hate that, too, Keith, when it's you. You always help me. Please just let me help you."

The words had his stance trembling as it was, threatening him to cave in and spill. But what really sold him was when Lance leaned up to grace Keith's cheek with a chaste kiss - one of _many_ cheek-kisses the sub had given him in the past several days since their kind-of-but-not-really-date.

He just couldn't say _no_ when Lance combined sweet, coaxing words with the affectionate gesture of lips soft and warm against his face.

Keith stared. Lance was... _sincere._ Genuine. Like he really wanted to know; like he really cared when and where and why Keith had come to hate the anniversary of his own birth.

He averted his gaze to the ceiling and took a breath that stuttered, swallowing thickly.

"My tenth birthday," he said slowly. "First one after my dad died. That was when I started hating it."

A mocha hand enveloped his own, and a messy head of brown hair refound its place on Keith's chest, ear snug against his beating heart.

"Keep going," Lance prompted in a whisper, fingers stroking Keith's hand. "I'm listening."

_Might as fucking well, I guess._

"My tenth birthday was the first time I was beaten to a fucking pulp, okay? She tore me to fucking shreds because I had the gall to ask if we could get ice cream on the way home from school. I cried myself to sleep, and I went to school the next day, and when my teacher asked what happened I told her I got into a fight, and she shrugged it off and nobody ever fucking brought it up again, because nobody gave a shit. Nobody ever gave a shit. Not until I met Shiro and Adam. That's why I hate my birthday."

That was cathartic, in a way.

It was also like tearing the stitches out of an unhealed, infected wound. And it was _stupid_. It was ridiculous that it still hurt so bad to think about something eight years gone and over with. He was supposed to be stronger than that.

Lance flinched violently above him, body tensing. "Keith..."

"See? I knew this was a shitty idea. Now you're not feeling good, and -"

" _No._ I'm just...I hope you know you didn't deserve that, you know?" Lance clarified. "If I didn't deserve to be abused, then you didn't, either. You need to know that."

"I know I didn't." Keith closed his eyes. If he didn't, he feared pathetic weakness might spill out of them. "I _know_ I didn't. I never did anything wrong and everyone fucking hated me, anyway, just because I was there."

"I'm...Keith. I'm _so_ sorry."

"I just wanted a fucking ice cream cone on my birthday. I was a _kid._ What the fuck was wrong with that bitch? That was bullshit."

"I know."

"I fucking  _hate_ my birthday. I don't want it."

"I know. _Shhh_ , it's okay. I know."

Keith hadn't realized he'd started to cry, silent tears falling, until Lance was pulling himself up to hover his face above the Dom's, thumbs wiping said tears away, a look of pure sorrow in his gorgeous eyes which deserved to never look anything but happy.

"I told you this was bullshit," Keith said through grit teeth, voice cracking, unable to bring himself to meet Lance's eyes.

"It's not," Lance whispered. He pressed another two kisses to Keith's face, one directly beneath each of his now-reddened eyes. "It's not. I'm glad you told me. I just want you to feel better."

Keith closed his eyes, all but entirely giving in. He lay there, stiff and silent, allowing Lance to wipe away the pathetic, ugly tears one by one until he managed to force them into ceasing. Letting Lance kiss his face and make soft shushing sounds, which did nothing seeing as Keith wasn't making a single noise anyway, but they were comforting.

When he opened his eyes roughly five minutes later, feeling an odd mixture of drained, relieved, and mortified, Lance offered him a sad smile.

"Hey," Keith croaked.

"Hey, yourself." Lance pecked his lips, quick and close-mouthed. "Feel a little better?"

"I feel stupid as fuck, actually. But yes. Better, too."

"Good." Lance bit down on one corner of his lip. Keith was hardly in the right mood to be turned on by the sight, but he could admit the beauty of it still. "Keith?"

"Yeah."

"I love you. I really do."

Keith's breath caught in his throat. His hands, previously clenched in tight fists where his arms lay stiff at his sides while he cried, came up to card through the sub's hair, to stroke his face, fingers ghosting over Lance's lips and brow.

"I love you so fucking much," Keith whispered. "You have _no_ idea."

"I think I really do."

"Uh-huh. Keep telling yourself that."

Lance's smile, bright and wonderous at the simple prospect of being _loved_ , more than made up for the embarrassment of his sobfest.

The small black box in his bottom dresser drawer, stashed beneath a pile of clothes just in case, gave Keith a small sliver of hope. Hope that he could, maybe, learn to like his birthday again, if it was the anniversary of another important thing, too.

_Two days. Two days. Two days._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is...the last chapter to be posted before klance becomes canon king. by the time the next chapter is posted, KICK (fair warning there will be s8 spoilers in the notes of the next chapter)
> 
> my soul is prepared for this, fam. let's get this bread


	53. the secrets you tell me, i'll take to my grave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All he had was this: Lance, sitting in front of him, bashful and gorgeous and everything Keith had ever wanted all compounded into one continuous person. 
> 
> And this, he was beginning to realize - this was more than enough for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> season eight of voltron legendary defender who? i don't know her

The door creaked open.

"Keith?"

The sound of his name coming from that voice sent sparks down his spine. Keith rolled over slowly, eyes immediately locking onto the shadowy figure in the doorway. His heart skipped a solid two beats.

"Lance?" He whispered, throwing off the covers as he sat up. "It's late. Are you okay?"

He already had his legs swung over the side of the bed, halfway on his feet, when Lance took a couple of steps into his room. The sub nodded. As he came closer, Keith was relieved to see his eyes were clear and dry.

"I'm...fine," Lance said slowly, like he wasn't sure whether or not that was a lie. He crossed his arms over his chest and rubbed his hands over his biceps. Keith caught sight of the raised hairs and goosebumps there, and frowned.

"Did you have a nightmare?" Keith asked.

Lance froze. Then he nodded, eyes downcast. As if it was something to be ashamed of.

Or, perhaps, as if the _content_ of the nightmare was something to be ashamed of.

"I'm sorry," Lance said abruptly. "I shouldn't have woken you up - this was really stupid - I'm just gonna -"

Keith was across the room in an instant, snatching the sub's wrist in a tight grip as it reached for the door. Maybe not the most fantastic choice, considering how being grabbed by the arm had likely played out for Lance so many times in the past, Keith realized a second too late.

But Lance didn't tense under Keith's touch like he once would have. His gasp of surprise was only that - mere surprise. It was not a gasp of fear or pain. The look on his face when he turned back to meet Keith's eyes was not timid or terrorized - it was _hopeful._

Lance already knew what Keith was going to say. All he had to do was _say it._

The words flew from his mouth in a rush, desperate to get out of his brain and into the open air. "Do you want to sleep in here tonight?"

Lance was silent for a long moment. He looked like he was giving Keith a chance to change his mind, to take his offer back. _Don't hold your breath._

"Sure," Lance breathed, a sparkle in his eyes and a small smile turning up the corners of his lips once he realized Keith was being entirely sincere. "You sure that's okay?"

"Of course it's okay." _It's more than okay._ "Come here."

Lance's steps still faltered as Keith led him to the bed. Keith let his grip on the sub's wrist fall, sliding down to intertwine their fingers together instead. He was struck, not for the first time, by the thought of how perfectly their hands fit together. Two puzzle pieces, carved specifically for the sake of one another, falling so easily into place.

It was hard to believe those were _his_ thoughts, from _his_ cynical, entirely unpoetic brain.

And yet, there they were.

Keith moved all the way across the bed in clambering, uncoordinated motions that still dragged with sleepiness, pressing his back against the wall when he could scoot no further. Lance followed with grace, long limbs anything but gangly as he pulled them onto the mattress. He followed Keith's lead, sitting cross-legged, the hand not holding the Dom's resting loosely in his lap.

It was - _awkward_ , to say the least.

But in fairness, Keith had absolutely _no fucking idea_ how to do this whole romance thing. They just didn't teach classes on this shit. _How To Impress and Woo the Sub You Very Much Want To Claim 101._ He would pay out the ass for a single lecture. He really would.

He didn't have a class, though, or a how-to book, or even a goddamn brochure.

All he had was _this_ : Lance, sitting in front of him, bashful and gorgeous and _everything_ Keith had ever wanted all compounded into one continuous person. A boy who deserved nothing but peace and joy; a boy who was broken; a boy who was finally beginning to heal. A boy who would, Keith hoped, be able to relearn how to trust fully and deeply again. Because Keith would quite literally fucking kill a man for Lance to trust him freely, unabashedly, without a doubt or hesitation.

And _this_ , he was beginning to realize - this was more than enough for now.

"I'm sorry I woke up you up," Lance finally said, voice hushed. He looked at the walls in a paranoid sort of way that Keith somehow, for some reason, found to be innately adorable. Keith scoffed, feeling a soft smile begin to bloom.

"You didn't wake me up," he lied. Half-lied, at least. He'd been close to sleep, halfway there, _finally_ falling into blissful darkness, when the sub opened his door and called out for him.

Lance didn't need to know that, though. It didn't matter. He would choose to be there for Lance in a moment of need over sleep any fucking day.

"Good," Lance sighed. He paused, bit down on his lower lip, and leaned his forehead slowly to rest upon Keith's shoulder. His thumb rubbed soothing motions over the back of the Dom's hand, despite the fact that _he_ was the one who'd come in search of soothing. Lance was just a selfless person like that. "Still sorry, though. You know. For bothering you."

Keith let his free hand card through Lance's hair, heart beating in his throat when Lance made a contented sort of sigh and nuzzled closer. "Stop apologizing. It's not your fault you had a bad dream. Did you, uh...did you want to talk about it?"

He immediately regretted asking when Lance stiffened beneath his hands.

"No," Lance whispered. "I don't want to _think_ about it."

Keith gulped. There was only one thing he could think to do; likely the only reason Lance had come and found him in the first place. And therein lay his motto as of late: _ah, fuck it, I guess, might as well._

He brought his arms around Lance's waist, holding him close, and slowly lowered both of their bodies to lie with heads on the pillows, Lance's face still tucked tight against him.

And Lance wasn't stiff or uncertain anymore. He was limp with relief. His body melted easily into the Dom's, chest-to-chest, one arm draped casually over Keith's waist while Keith held him in a death grip.

There were no more _is this okay_ 's or apologies. There weren't any words at all. They didn't need them. Lance pressing a soft kiss to Keith's bare shoulder and making an almost _purring_ sort of sound at the Dom's gentle, soothing touch - it all spoke volumes louder than words ever could have.

They held onto one another for dear life, and slept.


	54. if i woke up next to you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Mornin', birthday boy."
> 
> His fathers were standing in the doorway, teasing and laughing...and he was asleep in bed with a sub cuddled up suggestively close to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAVE SOME MORE SWEET SHIT

"Mornin', birthday boy."

Fuzzy, sleepy awareness came to him one inkling at a time. He stretched out, a warm weight resting on his chest and a sense in his bones of having slept well, but not quite long enough.

It wasn't until a throat was very pointedly cleared that Keith blinked his eyes once, twice - then opened them wide, staring in shock at the ceiling, adrenaline pumping through his veins.

Because that was Adam's voice, amused, trying and failing to stifle laughter. Shiro clearing his throat while Adam chuckled. And Lance, still sound asleep on his chest, breath deep and even, body peaceful.

His fathers were standing in the doorway, teasing and laughing...and he was asleep in bed with a sub cuddled up suggestively close to him. 

_Oh, God, fuck my life._

Keith shot up into a sitting position without thinking. Or, at least, he tried to. The entire body entangled with his, limbs, torso, fingers and all, made the act of moving rather difficult. Lance's head jostled against him, and the sub began to stir, nose scrunching up in the  _most adorable way, Jesus fucking Christ._

Adam and Shiro, leaning casually against either end of the doorway, laughed again. Likely at his panicked desperation to  _not_ wake the sleeping boy curled against him. Keith shot them a glare that he meant to be heated. But judging by their wide grins, he had a feeling he was coming off more distraught than anything.

"We weren't doing anything!" He hissed hurriedly. His face grew hot when Adam's knowing, smirking gaze fell to his hands and their bruising grasp on Lance's hips. Keith threw them into the air as if he'd touched a hot stove; a sign of surrender. "I swear!"

Lance's eyes began to flutter. He blinked wearily up at Keith and offered him a soft smile. His face didn't fall when he finally caught onto the fathers of the boy he was sleeping on standing in the doorway.

Lance's smile landed on Shiro right as the older sub assured Keith, "We know you weren't."

"The walls are thin," Adam said. "We would have heard."

Keith buried his face in his hands, feeling the strongest urge to claw his own fucking hair out (and maybe his eyes, too.) They found a sick kind of entertainment in doing shit like this, didn't they? His mortification was what they feasted on. His tears were their fine wine. Fuckers.

Lance seemed to take no such offense to the words. In fact, he seemed to be on their side - because his lips were smiling as he pressed an open-mouthed kiss to Keith's neck  _in front of his fucking parents._

Keith stared at the sub in shock, mouth hanging open. Lance pulled back, then, nuzzling his nose into Keith's neck as his eyes fluttered closed, offering a blind wave in Shiro and Adam's general direction. 

"Morning," Lance yawned. 

"Morning, kiddo," Shiro said, ear-splitting grin growing impossibly wider. "Sleep well?"

"Mmhm."

"Yeah. I bet."

Keith hissed low in Lance's ear. "Fucking  _traitor._ "

Lance only smiled up at him, still beautiful as ever, even with his eyes puffy from sleep and his hair sticking up in every possible direction.

"Happy birthday!" Lance chirped in response, at the same time that Shiro pitched a warning of  _language_ that fell flat without any true firmness. 

Keith sighed, letting his head fall back onto the pillows. This boy was going to be the fucking death of him.

_But you're claiming him, anyway, aren't you?_

_Ten hours. Ten hours. Ten hours._


	55. oh, we're in love, aren't we?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In every world. In every reality.
> 
> Always.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's claiming day bitchesssss!!!!

" _Keith._ Son. You need to take a deep breath and  _calm yourself down._ "

Well, Keith thought that was an awfully nice suggestion. He really did. There was just one little problem: he fucking couldn't. 

He hissed as much to a very exasperated-looking Adam, not meeting his father's eyes. Frankly, he wished Adam wouldn't speak so openly to him about this at the dining room table while Lance stood a mere ten feet away in the kitchen. This was  _supposed_ to be a surprise to Lance, who had no clue Keith had even heard his confessional-time with Shiro. The last thing he needed was a few ill-timed words to ruin the whole thing.

"You're going to do just fine," Adam continued to insist. He was _way_ too calm for the situation, as far as Keith was concerned. "You know Lance wants to be yours. You know  _you_ want Lance to be yours. All there's left to do is ask."

Keith closed his eyes. He forced himself to take several deep breaths. Adam's hand came to rest on his shoulder, warm and solid, grounding him. 

He was right, wasn't he?

Keith wouldn't admit it out loud in a million years - but Adam was entirely correct.

He did want Lance. He knew Lance wanted him.  _All I have to do is ask._

"Thanks," Keith mumbled, begrudgingly. Adam smiled.

"Anytime." There was a long pause. Adam lowered his voice exponentially. "Now, do you remember everything I told you about...consummatio-"

" _God,_ no, okay. Thanks for the talk, Adam, I'm good now,  _really_ -"

* * *

Lance came out of his second therapy session looking much less weary than he had the first time.

Keith watched in utter relief as Lance shook his doctor's hand firmly this time, a real smile on his face. He listened to the woman telling Lance some stupid joke, listened to him laughing, listened to him respond without so much as a stutter or a flinch.

He looked happy. He sounded happy. He was  _happy_.

It was becoming a less rare sight with each passing day. Keith could only hope it would continue to grow more common until it was the norm. Until it was so ordinary that he didn't  _have_ to feel relief or pride each time Lance smiled, because it was a typical occurrence.

More than anything, Keith hoped the collar stashed in his backpack would have a hand in shaping that new normal. 

* * *

"Are we going to go on a lake-walk after every appointment now?"

Lance nudged Keith's shoulder with his own, grinning. His tone and his body language made it clear the words were only meant to be a tease. Keith felt his heart jump into his throat, anyway. He was  _way_ too fucking anxious.

"I mean, not if you don't want to," Keith said. 

He meant to keep his voice light, but even he could hear some of the tension straining beneath the words. Lance rolled his eyes.

"Of  _course_ I want to," Lance said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Why wouldn't I want to spend time with you?"

Keith gulped. They were passing over the exact spot on the concrete where they'd first fallen together only a week before. It seemed as good a place as any.

He paused, reaching out to place fingers lightly atop Lance's hand where he walked a couple of paces ahead. Lance stopped, too, turning to look at him in confusion.

"I have to ask you something," Keith breathed. His eyes flitted from the sub's wide-eyed gaze, to his lips, to the ever so slight tilt of his head.  _Perfection. Absolute perfection._

Lance gave him the same hopeful look as the night before, only amplified. His face drained of color and his hand shook beneath Keith's. It was a headrush to realize that he held the power to make Lance look like that, to make him  _feel_ like that.

And Keith was  _so_ much more powerful in this regard than any of the Doms who had made Lance vulnerable via pain and abuse. Any cowardly Dom could frighten and hurt a sub into submission. 

It took true finesse to  _earn_ that submission. It took strength to slowly, peacefully unravel a sub's emotions and body not by harming them, but by being good enough to them that they simply couldn't help but fall in love.

For all his doubts and worries, Keith liked to think he'd done a damn good job on the road less travelled.

"Then ask me," Lance said. His turned his hand over beneath Keith's touch, allowing the Dom's fingers to dance across his palm before pressing his own against it. 

Keith had thought, many times before, that he just wasn't capable of denying Lance any request. This soft  _ask me_ was no exception. 

He pulled the small box out of the awaiting side pocket of his bag, dropping the bag on the concrete as he went. Lance followed suit, messenger bag slipping from his shoulder numbly. 

He looked...unsurprised. But unsurprised in the  _best_ kind of way. Like this was a long time coming.

And it was, wasn't it? It was always meant to be this way, Keith could now say with certainty; it was always meant to be  _them_. 

The lid of the box was lifted. Lance gulped as Keith dropped his hand to carefully, gently use all ten trembling fingers to reveal the collar inside.

Keith so fucking hoped Lance would like it. It wasn't exactly the same collar he had pictured in his head for so many weeks. It was slightly paler than the royal blue he'd been going for, and the silver  _K_ charm dangling front and center was a simple, printed font, not the swooping cursive he'd wanted.

 _Keith_ , Adam had said softly as Keith fretted over the glass display case in the store.  _You could give him a piece of string to tie around his neck, and Lance would be happy. It's not about the collar or what it looks like. It's about the fact that_ you're  _giving it to him._

Keith had hesitantly agreed at the time, trusting his father's more experienced judgement. Now, there wasn't a doubt in his mind that Adam was right.

Lance didn't want a fancy collar with all the bells and whistles. Lance just wanted  _him._ Keith could wholeheartedly relate.

"Keith..." Lance whispered, eyes beginning to glisten. Keith felt hot, wet tears pricking behind his own eyes at the sight. 

"You can touch it," Keith smiled softly as slim fingers hovered hesitantly over the collar. "It's not gonna come to life and bite you."

Lance choked on a watery laugh. He sniffed a little as he held the  _K_ between two fingers with excessive care.

There was one thing Adam had been wrong about in all his steady, comforting encouragements. He was wrong when he said all Keith had to do was ask - because he didn't have to ask at all. No words were necessary. All he had to do was  _be_ there. It was more than enough to stand there, collar held out like an unbroken promise.

It was plenty.

Lance removed the collar from the box and held it like it was the most valuable thing he'd ever had the honor of setting eyes on. Then he lifted his gaze to Keith, full of hope and  _love,_ and sniffled again. 

"Well?" He asked in a croaking voice. "Are you gonna put it on me, or what?"

Keith blinked rapidly.  _Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't fucking cry._

"So pushy," he said half-heartedly, but reached to take the collar from the sub's hands anyway, heart pounding with a dangerous intensity as Lance's grin widened. " _Okay._ Okay. Come here."

Lance obeyed, taking a step closer and lifting his head for the collar to be placed around his neck. Keith did the clasp with shaking hands. He licked his suddenly very dry lips at the sight of Lance baring his throat, exposing such kissable and biteable flesh. 

The sub let a single tear finally fall when Keith straightened the charm where it fell against Lance's breastbone and stepped back to admire the view. He raised a hand to scrub the tear away with the end of his sleeve. Keith beat him to it, taking the sole drop of saltwater onto his thumb.

Lance launched at him. Before Keith could fully comprehend what was happening, a mouth that was quickly becoming so familiar was slammed into his own, two arms wrapped around his neck. He recovered quickly enough from his surprise, snaking hands around the sub's waist and returning the kiss with fervor. 

And he felt it, then. The inexplicable  _connection_ taking hold over his mind, body, and soul. His brain registered understanding of the commitment; caught onto the fact that he'd just claimed a sub. The link, that unexplainable feeling of a claim everyone talked about, was now  _his._

No - it wasn't his. It was theirs.

He wondered if Lance was feeling the same thing, if it felt different for subs. Keith made a mental note to ask later - there was no way he was going to pull his mouth away from Lance's for the sake of something as trivial as words. 

And this was it.

This was what they were  _born_ for.

No matter what path he might have taken in life, regardless of everything that came before, Keith knew he would have eventually found his way to this boy, the other half of his soul. There was no other viable option.

In every world, Lance was his. In every reality, they were  _Keith and Lance,_ hand in hand, together.

Always.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahhhh I'm so sorry this chapter was so late in the day!! It was supposed to be up like 5 hours ago. you have another one coming late tonight!


	56. hearts don't break around here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance pressed his head back against the pillows, entirely overtaken by the sensation. The last tendrils of control began to slip. He let them go willingly. He fully trusted in the Dom who had chosen him, chosen to follow through on his promises.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> klance owns my whole ass i will never stop writing klance fanfic for as long as i live ever
> 
> here's some sweet smut :)

Warm lips pressed to his jaw, to his chin, to his neck, drawing his breath into heavy pants.

Or maybe his lovely struggle for oxygen and racing heart were due to the hands roaming just beneath the hem of his shirt. Thumbs rubbed his hipbones just above his pants, showcasing a desire to dip lower, but never doing so. 

"You're so beautiful," Keith gasped in his ear, nipping the lobe briefly between his teeth. " _So_ gorgeous. I love you so much."

It had... _never_ felt like this before.

Lance was accustomed to fear and pain and disgust at his own body's response coursing through his veins. He was used to shame and anger.

But there was  _nothing_ to fear in that moment. Lying there beneath  _his own Dom,_ feelings of desperate desire overtaking his mind and body, was so far from disgusting. He felt himself growing hard where an already fully-hard Keith brushed against him. It was not shameful or terrible. Not in the least.

It felt  _amazing._

A probably too-loud moan fell from his lips as Keith placed a slow, careful palm on the left side of his chest. 

"Can I touch you here?" Keith rasped; a common question that evening, asked each time a hand made to venture somewhere new.

"Y-yes," Lance heard his own voice crying out. "Oh, God, Keith,  _yes_. Please."

A hungry mouth attached itself to his neck, biting and sucking. A single nipple was rolled between two fingers. Hips were brought down to press into his, grinding into him. 

The feeling was a difficult one to explain. It was simultaneously familiar and entirely new. The familiarity of it was in the scary but exhilarating feeling of losing all control - or, more accurately, letting go of control, pressing all of his power into another person's hands.

It was crazy, Lance thought, that he was just now coming to realize how  _wonderful_ that could be. This thing he would have once described as a horrible, aching helplessness, he now looked at Keith and called  _love._

It felt exactly like being taken care of.

Because the entirely new part was the intense urge Lance felt to give into Keith's will, to obey, to let his Dom make him feel good. It was nearly impossible to fight.

So he didn't.

He melted under Keith's hands, eyes closed and mouth open and gasping. The Dom lifted his shirt halfway up his torso, then froze.

"Can I take your shirt off?"

"Yes."

Lips pressed kisses across the expanse of his torso. Fingers fumbled impatiently at the drawstring on his pajama bottoms. 

"Can I take your pants off, beautiful?"

" _Ah_ \- y-yes -"

Hands ran sweetly up and down his bare thighs. Keith groaned somewhere above him. Lance opened his eyes to find that Keith had removed his own clothing along with his sub's. The only things separating them now were two thin layers of cloth, both of their erections straining beneath boxers and briefs respectively. 

Lance wanted them off.  _Immediately._

Keith opened his mouth to ask another question, but Lance was quicker.

"Keith,  _please_ ," he moaned, wild, desperate eyes meeting Keith's, which were dark with lust. "Oh,  _God._ Please touch me.  _Please_ touch me."

Keith blinked in shock, but reached his hand toward the hem of Lance's briefs, anyway. It hovered there, hesitant.

"Are you sure?" Keith asked in a whisper, eyebrows furrowing together. "It's...it's alright if you're not ready, Lance. You don't have to be."

Lance groaned in frustration, bucking his hips up towards Keith's - and Keith looked at him as though he was a stranger, in a mixture of awe and confusion.

"Okay," the Dom said, kissing softly down his neck as he took the hem of the garment between his fingers. "Okay. I've got you. I'll take care of you, gorgeous. Gonna make you feel so good."

The briefs were slipped down, his now achingly hard cock freed from its only restraint. Lance helped by kicking them impatiently off of his ankles, then stared in fascination as Keith began to remove his own boxers. 

The sight of Keith's cock, leaking pre-cum from the tip where it rested near his stomach, sent shockwaves of pleasure down his spine. Lance felt an inexplicable urge to  _serve._ It was, for all intents and purposes, a call to worship.

"I w-want you," Lance found himself whimpering, unable to tear his eyes away. "God, Keith, I  _want_ you."

A hand came up to cradle his face, gently encouraging him to find eye contact again. Lance obeyed without hesitation.

" _Believe_ me, I want you, too," Keith told him. His voice and his face and his hands and  _everything_ about him radiated devotion. "But let's take it slow tonight, sweetheart. Okay? I don't want to overwhelm you."

Lance swallowed thickly.

Keith was right, as much as he disliked it. Having his new Dom make love to him seemed like a fantastic idea in the moment. But it certainly wouldn't be so appealing in the midst of a panic attack, which could easily be triggered by trying to do too much, too soon.

Keith must have seen the confliction on his face, because he leaned in to press a kiss behind his ear and whisper, "I'll still touch you, Lance. You're such a good boy, doing so good for me. I'll let you cum."

There was no more warning before a hand was wrapped firmly around him, stroking in long, steady motions.

Lance pressed his head back against the pillows, entirely overtaken by the sensation. The last tendrils of control began to slip. He let them go willingly. He fully trusted in the Dom who had chosen him, chosen to follow through on his promises. 

Maybe slow wouldn't be so bad, after all.


	57. look for the boy with the broken smile (and he will be loved)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At the very least, he was no longer worried about inciting a panic attack in his sub, who was still very much battling a case of PTSD. Lance's writhing and moaning beneath him as he was jerked off was a pretty clear indicator that he was enjoying it.
> 
> But he was worried that he would mess something else up. Specifically, he was worried that he wouldn't be able to send Lance into subspace.

Truth be told? Keith was a fuckton more worried than he was willing to display.

At the very least, he was no longer worried about inciting a panic attack in his sub, who was still very much battling a case of PTSD. Lance's writhing and moaning beneath him as he was jerked off was a pretty clear indicator that he was enjoying it.

But he was worried that he would mess something else up. Specifically, he was worried that he wouldn't be able to send Lance into subspace.

"Keith," Lance gasped, eyes fluttering, and Keith could tell he was nearing the edge. The Dom's own cock was throbbing with the need for release where he rutted impatiently against the mattress beside Lance's thigh. He paused his ministrations for a moment, offering a soft  _shhh_ when Lance whimpered and rocked his hips in protest.

"Hold on, baby boy," Keith murmured. He pressed his own length flush to the sub's, holding both in his hand and giving a few experimental strokes, unable to contain the stream of moans and swears coming from his mouth. "Oh,  _Lance_. Oh,  _f-fuck_. 'M so close. Is... _ah_...is th-this okay, love?"

" _Yes,_ " Lance said, voice on the edge of hysterics. "Sir,  _S-Sir._ I need to cum.  _Please_ let me cum, Sir."

The title was enough to leave Keith teetering dangerously close to the edge.  _Oh, fuck, yes._

"Cum with me," Keith growled, feeling the overwhelming urge to  _dominate._ "Be a g-good boy and cum with me, okay? Do what I tell you to."

Lance nodded frantically in a show of obedience.

"Yes, Sir," he panted. "I'm - Keith, oh, God, I'm -"

The sub came first, eyes glazed over, back arched, coating Keith's hand in his release.

"Oh,  _fuck_ , yeah," Keith groaned. His eyes flitted between Lance's face, the perfect picture of ecstasy, and the ropes of hot cum shooting from his twitching cock, and he was incapable of holding himself back any longer. "I'm - babe, gonna cum with you -"

" _Fuck!_ " Lance screamed out at the peak of his high, the first time Keith had ever heard such a vulgar word from his lips. "Oh,  _fuck!_ Yes, Sir!  _Keith!_ "

Keith was in bliss, too, then, shooting his own release over his sub's cock. "Oh, God, Lance. Good boy. Fuck, yes."

And all of Keith's worrying, it turned out, had been for nothing. Because when he finally came back down to the Earth, his entire body shaking and humming happily, Lance was in subspace. 

Adam had assured him he would know when he saw it, and Keith  _knew._ Lance's eyes were half-lidded and hazy, a small smile on his face, his consciousness vaguely there but mostly gone in a world of absolute tranquility. He was entirely still and mostly quiet, save for the occasional soft hum or sigh.

Keith allowed himself to roll over and collapse on the bed beside his sub in a combination of exhaustion, bliss, and utter relief. 

"I love you," he mumbled against the sub's -  _his_ sub's - mussed hair. "I love you."

_You and I are gonna make it. We really are._


	58. you did not break me, i'm still fighting for peace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It wasn't just a good idea, it was the only idea. Iverson and rest of the school administration wouldn't listen. No attorney would touch Lance's case with a ten-foot pole. What other choice did they have? It was time to end the injustice at the Garrison, once and for all.
> 
> It was time to take matters into their own hands.

"What do you think?"

Shiro watched Adam stare off at the wall, eyes squinted, a thoughtful look on his face. He nuzzled his head into his Dom's chest, drew their intertwined legs closer together, and waited patiently.

After a minute, Adam said: "I think that's...actually a very good idea."

Shiro's heart raced inside his chest. Butterfly wings fluttered and then soared. He thought it was a good idea, too.

No, actually. It wasn't just a good idea, it was the _only_ idea. Iverson and rest of the school administration wouldn't listen. No attorney would touch Lance's case with a ten-foot pole. What other choice did they have? It was time to end the injustice at the Garrison, once and for all.

It was time to take matters into their own hands.

"Good," Shiro breathed, smiling brightly when Adam leaned down to press a series of kisses to his forehead, cheek, and jaw. "Because I was gonna do it, anyway."

Adam laughed a little at that. His tongue swiped briefly at the warm flesh of Shiro's neck, sending a shiver down the sub's spine. "I don't doubt it for a second. You're unwieldy, do you know that?"

" _Oh_ , I know."

Within minutes, Shiro was the one on his back with Adam looming above him, pinning his wrists forcefully above his head. The Dom growled into his mouth and breathed possessive words against his lips as he kissed him roughly, teeth and tongues clashing. Shiro was just about to allow the moans of arousal waiting in his throat to clamber out when the two of them were indirectly interrupted.

To be specific, interrupted by their son's new sub shouting his name with an unmistakable brand of joy from down the hall. _Oh, fuck! Yes, Sir! Keith!_

And if _that_ wasn't the biggest mood-killer of the entire century.

Adam groaned in disappointment and rolled off of his sub, lying on his side and pulling Shiro back to cuddle against him instead. Shiro buried his nose into Adam's neck, certain the Dom could feel the mortified blush creeping over his face.

"Maybe not tonight," Shiro said meekly. "Or, you know...for the rest of the week."

"Agreed. _Very_ much agreed."

"We're gonna have to put a damn schedule on the fridge or something. Thursdays are ours."

Adam laughed louder than Shiro had heard in a long time. He hadn't heard his mate laugh very much at all lately, now that he thought about it. The beautiful sound almost made not getting any worth his while.

_Almost._ Goddamn it, kids, _seriously?_

"Stupid, horny teenagers," he grumbled spitefully, and smiled as he rejoiced in the sound of his Dom's amusement.


	59. forget what we're told before we get too old

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith's hand momentarily released it's yanking grip in Lance's hair to run through it firmly but sweetly, turning the sub's head from side to side to admire the wonderful phenomenon of nature that was his face. "Of course you can, sweetheart. Now make me cum."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YES it's another smut scene
> 
> this is what the OUTLINE SAYS DON'T JUDGE ME

If there was one thing Keith absolutely was _not_ expecting to happen a week into his burgeoning relationship with his newly claimed sub, it was to be cornered in the library after school and begged to fuck said sub's throat.

Lance, it turned out, could be a _horny_ little shit when his consent and boundaries were actually respected.

Keith liked to think of himself as a relatively smart guy. But probably not smart enough. Because five minutes later found him having his dick sucked eagerly by an aiming-to-please Lance behind a shelf of reference files.

In the library. At school. Where literally _anybody_ could have walked past and seen them.

He still couldn't bring himself to regret it.

He tugged a little harder where his fingers gripped Lance's hair. The sub blinked up at him with wide, falsely innocent eyes. He hummed quietly around the length in his mouth as he hallowed out his cheeks, knowing damn well the vibrations would cause Keith's hips to buck forward, effectively fucking the sub's throat just as he'd asked.

"Gonna treat you so good," Keith said beneath his breath, just barely loud enough for Lance to hear. "Gonna give you such a good treat for this. My sweet boy just loves my cock, doesn't he?"

Lance pulled off to trail soft kisses with the occassional swipe of his tongue over said cock as he whispered in response. "Yes, Sir. _Mmm_. May I please have my treat at home, Sir?"

Keith blinked. That was probably a good idea. Lance couldn't exactly go into subspace and become immobile for thirty minutes in a public place.

"Of course." He looked down through lidded eyes to watch Lance press open-mouthed kisses of adoration to his aching dick. God, he was _so_ fucking beautiful when he submitted like this, on his knees like a good boy, worshipping his Dom. Keith's hand momentarily released it's yanking grip in Lance's hair to run through it firmly but sweetly, turning the sub's head from side to side to admire the wonderful phenomenon of nature that was his face. "Of course you can, sweetheart. Now make me cum."

Lance obediently put his pretty mouth back to good use. When Keith came soon after, his sub swallowed the load spilled into his mouth gladly, licking his lips as if he'd just finished a gourmet meal.

Keith suffered an intense struggle to hold back a groan when Lance rose to his feet, tucked Keith's softening cock back into his pants for him, and kissed him, transferring his own taste into his mouth.

"Love you," Lance murmured between kisses. "Love being yours. Love making you happy. I love you, Keith."

"I love you, too. So fucking much."

_More than you'll ever know. You have no goddamn idea._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i personally headcanon that lance's treat later was having his ass eaten out thank you and goodnight


	60. these walls that they put up to hold us back will fall down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "My name is Professor Takashi Shirogane - and the Galaxy Garrison Academy for Astropiloting and Astroengineering is not the school you think it is."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is the shortest chapter yet oof sowwy

"Are you ready?"

Shiro stood with his back to the wall, a crumpled sheet of paper smoothed out in his hands, heart pounding in anticipation. He nodded in confirmation nonetheless.

He was as ready as he'd ever be.

He _had_ to be ready. Lance deserved as much. If nobody else was going to fight for his freedom, for his dignity, as well as that of every sub in the Garrison and worldwide - then, you know what? He would do it his damn self.

"Let's do it," he said, and gulped when the recording light on the camera blinked on. Adam gave him an encouraging smile from behind the tricorder.

_You can do this_ , his Dom mouthed at him.

Shiro took a deep breath. He glanced down at what was essentially his son's hit list one more time before locking a steady, firm gaze on the lens of the camera.

"My name is Professor Takashi Shirogane - and the Galaxy Garrison Academy for Astropiloting and Astroengineering is not the school you think it is."


	61. show me a garden that's bursting into life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Do you...I know we've been trying to take this slow. But, um - I kind of - wrote out a list of..."
> 
> "List of what?"
> 
> Keith inhaled deeply. Lance waited, expression puzzled. Finally, Keith continued:
> 
> "I wrote a list of rules for you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HERE, i'll make up for that last crazy-short chapter with a ridiculously long one!
> 
> this one has some talk of sex and some making out but no actual smut. so y'all who don't like the smut, you're, like...90% safe w/ with this one.
> 
> enjoy!

"Lance?"

"Hm."

"Go get my shoes and put them on me, please."

Keith was pretty thrilled to find his mini-experiment successful. Lance hopped off the arm of the couch where he sat scrolling aimlessly through his phone, flashing him a bright smile.

"Yes, Sir!" The sub said eagerly, practically skipping down the hall to Keith's - _their_ \- bedroom.

He didn't even _need_ his shoes. They weren't going anywhere anytime soon. He just wanted to test the waters, to see how far Lance's desire to please his Dom extended. The result was a glorious surprise, Lance's joy at being asked to complete a simple task in service of Keith an absolute blessing.

His heart was going to explode. It was actually, _literally_ going to fucking explode.

Lance returned a mere thirty seconds later with Keith's shoes in one hand and a bundled pair of socks in the other. There was still a smile on his face as he sank to his knees in front of the couch and immediately did as he was told.

Keith ran a hand repeatedly through Lance's hair, front to back, firm and kind. This effectively distrascted Lance from his final task of tying the laces. The sub's fingers paused their work. His eyes fluttered closed and he hummed contentedly, leaning to nuzzle his face against Keith's thigh.

"You don't have to finish that," Keith said when he saw Lance's hands fumble, trying his best to resume the tying. "We're not going anywhere."

Lance glanced up at him, a single eyebrow raised. "Then why do you need your shoes?" He placed a sweet kiss to the side of Keith's knee overtop his jeans.

"I don't."

Lance, thankfully, didn't take offense at learning he'd been commanded to complete a useless task. He laughed.

"Mm...can you cuddle me, please?"

Yep. There it was. His heart, exploding, just as suspected. Dynamite, _boom_. A million tiny little fragments of Kogane heart all over the living room floor like confetti.

"Of course, sweetheart, come here," Keith said, hands rubbing up and down Lance's sides, his face, his arms, as the sub clambered up to sit in his lap. His face was toward Keith, knees tucked under him and resting on the outside of either of the Dom's legs.

Lance wrapped his arms around Keith's shoulders and pressed his entire body as close as was humanly possibly, head buried in the crook of his neck.

"Why did you tell me to put your shoes on?" Lance murmured, lips pressed to Keith's skin while strong hands ran soothingly over his back.

"I wanted to see if you'd actually do it," Keith admitted hesitantly. When he put it that way, it sounded like he was making a game out of Lance's need for submission. That wasn't it at all, though.

Lance only nodded against him.

"'Course I would. I'd do anything for you."

"It just...feels good, you know? And not even in a sexual way. Seeing you obey just...I don't know. I can't explain it. It's just _good_."

"I know," Lance said. "'S good for me, too. I _love_ it when you call me your good boy. Makes me feel special."

Keith's breath caught in his throat. His grip around Lance's waist tightened in a likely painful way, but Lance didn't complain. "You _are_ special. That has nothing to do with me. You always have been."

Lance sniffled, suddenly, against his neck. Keith felt a brief splurge of panic. Lance must have somehow felt the emotion hit him (he was beginning to understand how his parents always communicated so effortlessly without words) because he was quick to correct the misunderstanding.

"I'm not sad," he said, which Keith felt was a contradiction to his wavering voice. "It's just that, like - nobody ever tells me things like that, you know? You're the only one."

"Everyone else is fucking stupid. You're _perfect_. If they can't see that, then too fucking bad for them. Their loss."

Lance pulled his head back to look Keith in the eyes, their noses a mere two inches apart. His hands, warm and tender, cradled the sharp edges of Keith's jaw - like he, too, was something special. "I love you, Keith. I'm so glad I found you."

"I love you, too." He turned his head to press a kiss into Lance's palm. "I love my sweet boy."

Lance flashed another smile, blindingly bright enough to rival the actual balls of flaming gas they called stars.

Keith took a deep breath. He glanced at his notepad resting on the coffee table. Was now a good time?

Adam and Shiro were out for the evening, at some sort of play or something. Keith and Lance had the entire house to themselves. There were some _other_ particular things he wanted to do to take advantage of their isolation - but this was more important. It should probably come first.

"Lance?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you...I know we've been trying to take this slow. But, um - I kind of - wrote out a list of..."

"List of what?"

Keith inhaled deeply. Lance waited, expression puzzled. Finally, Keith continued:

"I wrote a list of rules for you."

" _Oh_."

"Yeah. And I was thinking maybe we could...go through them, you know? Talk about it."

"I mean...yeah," Lance nodded, his smile more hesitant and faint now, but there all the same. "Rules are normal, aren't they? I should have them. That's fine. What are my rules?"

Keith took Lance's face in both hands and drew him in, kissing him. His tongue met the sub's with fervor; Lance submitted just as easily here as anywhere else, allowing Keith to control the encounter.

He rested his forehead against Lance's when they finally pulled away. His palms rested on his boy's cheeks, thumbs rubbing at the edges of his hairline just beside his ears. " _Hey_. Lance. We're going to _talk_ about them, alright? I'm not going to force you to agree to a rule you don't like or think is fair."

Lance practically deflated with relief. "Oh. Okay. That's - that's totally fine, then. Yeah. Where's the list?"

Keith retrieved his notepad from the table, shifting Lance slightly in his lap to reach it. He tried to ignore the way the sub's unintentionally spread ass pressed so nicely right _there_ because, really, they _had_ to talk about this first.

"Alright, sweetheart. I'm just gonna read what I wrote down. If you're okay with a rule, I want you to tell me _yes, Sir_. If you're not, just say so. Understood?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Good boy, Lance. Okay - um, first, safewords. Your safewords are red light, yellow light, and green light. Green light means everything is good, keep going. Yellow light means stop the thing we're currently doing. Red light means stop everything completely. You will always be honest with me when I ask what color. You will always safeword the second you start to feel uncomfortable."

"Yes, Sir."

"You will call me Sir during sex. You may not call me by name while we're being intimate, unless I give you permission. Don't ask; if I want you to, I'll tell you. You can call me Sir outside of sex whenever you want, but that's entirely your choice."

" _God_ , Keith," Lance breathed, teeth on his bottom lip. "Yes, Sir."

"You will respect my decisions and my authority. If you disagree with me on something, you'll say so politely. You will not start arguments with me."

"Yes, Sir."

"You will wear the clothes I lay out for you in the morning. You can pick out your own clothes when you're buying them, but once they're in the closet, I'll choose which ones you wear each day. Underwear included."

" _Yes_ , Sir."

"You will eat three meals a day, every day. You will never skip a meal unless I give you permission. If you're feeling sick or you can't eat for any reason, just tell me so. If you're healthy and feeling okay, you have to eat. No exceptions."

"Yes, Sir."

"I'll make your doctor and dentist appointments for you. You must go to the appointments I schedule for you. I want you to be healthy, love. You need to take care of yourself."

"Yes, Sir."

"No more swearing, ever. Not even during sex. You're beautiful and perfect, I don't want to hear ugly words from your mouth. You're too good for that."

Lance blushed deeply. "I picked that one up from you. Might take a few tries to get it out of my system."

"I'll give you a three-strikes-you're-out deal," Keith half-joked, pressing a soft kiss to his reddened cheek. "Sound good?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Good boy. You'll go to bed when I tell you to; no arguments. You need your sleep. You may not get out of bed without permission. I will never send you to bed alone - I'll always hold you and help you fall asleep. If I tell you it's time for bed, assume I'm going with you."

"Yes, Sir."

"I will help you do things like showering, brushing your teeth, and dressing and undressing. Don't groom yourself when I'm not there to help unless I've given you direct permission. I _love_ taking care of you. It makes me happy. Let me do that for you, okay?"

"Yes, Sir."

"You will not take your collar off. I'll take it off before we go to sleep every night. I'll put it on in the morning."

"Yes, Sir."

"You may not touch yourself without permission, ever. This includes fingering, nipple play, toys - anything. If you want me to make you feel good, all you have to do is ask. You're mine. Only I get to touch you."

" _Keith_. God. Yes, Sir."

"You may not cum without permission. If I haven't given you permission to cum, you have to ask. If you cum without permission, you will be punished. Cumming is a privilege that you earn, not a right."

"Kind of wanna cum right now, honestly."

"Soon, babe. Does that one sound okay?"

"Yes, Sir."

"I will always ask you if a punishment sounds fair to you. Punishments aren't meant to be comfortable, but I'll never punish you with anything that scares or harms you. Punishments may hurt sometimes, but I will _never_ leave a mark on you, _ever_. If you start to feel scared during a punishment, safeword immediately, and we'll find something else. I never want you to be scared of me. Punishments are done out of love; these rules are for your own good, and I want you to follow them because I want what's best for you. Alright?"

"Yes, Sir."

"You will not hide panic attacks or suicidal thoughts or anything else from me. If you aren't in a good place mentally, I want to know the second it happens. If I'm not there, text or call me, even if Shiro and Adam are already there. I want to help you, sweetheart. I want you to be okay."

"I'm...yes, Sir."

"You will not leave the house without permission, either alone or with anybody else. This includes Adam and Shiro. You will ask me before you go anywhere. When we're out somewhere together, you have to ask before leaving my side. School included. This is to keep you safe; you're still working on learning to say no, and I would literally fucking kill myself if I ever lost you."

"Keith..." Lance looked at him with wide, sad eyes. " _Babe_. Please don't say that. I _hate_ that."

"I _will_ say it, because it's true. But I don't even have to worry about that, because you're going to keep yourself safe, aren't you?"

Lance offered him a bittersweet smile. "Of course. Yes, Sir."

"If you ever break any of these rules, you will be punished. The severity of the punishment will depend on the severity of the rulebreaking."

"Yes, Sir."

"If you break a rule, tell me immediately. Subs normally feel guilty if they break a rule and aren't punished for it. That feeling of guilt will only grow if it's left unaddressed, and that's horrible for your mental health. For your own sake, tell me when you need to be punished." Keith heaved a dramatic sigh, earning an amused smile from his sub. "That's the last one. Does that all sound okay?"

"Yes, Sir. It sounds perfect."

"That's my good boy."

Keith pulled his sub back in for another kiss, this one less sweet and more passionate. He could already feel Lance half-hard where the front of his pants was pressed against the bottom of Keith's abdomen. Lance purposely ground his ass down on Keith's own growing erection, moaning loudly into the Dom's mouth.

He wouldn't have expected something as simple as laying down some ground rules to make them both so _horny_ , but he supposed it made sense. Dominative and submissive behaviors were, after all, the foundation of all human sexual attraction.

"Keith?" Lance breathed, breaking away from the kiss - and then yelped in surprise when a light warning smack was landed on the left side of his ass.

"What did I say? We're grinding. That's sexual. What do you call me?"

" _Sir_. Sorry, Sir."

"I forgive you, beautiful. Just try to remember, okay? I'll message you that file so you can try to memorize your rules."

"Okay. Sir?"

"Yeah?"

" _Please_ touch me. Please make me feel good, Sir."

Keith growled beneath his breath as he lifted the sub off his lap and threw him to lay on the couch, probably a little too roughly. Lance didn't seem to mind at all. He cried out in pleasure when Keith crawled up his body to attack the flesh of his throat with biting kisses. 

"Please touch my cock, Sir," Lance gasped.

Keith's hand was down his beautiful boy's pants in an instant. He was _more_ than willing to oblige.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHHHHH??!!
> 
> y'all. THIS right here is why I miss all these old D/s stories that we don't see anymore nowadays. it makes subs so damn happy to please their Doms and they just...TRUST them so much??? like they trust their Doms with their entire damn LIVES. with every little thing. and Doms love their subs so intensely that they watch them intently, get to know every little thing about them, and do everything in their power to read into exactly what their good boy or girl needs/wants without the sub even having to ask.
> 
> I just???? LOVE this unconditional, wholehearted trust and devotion. it's so fucking beautiful and it's what made me like D/s stories in the first place. they need to come back in style I miss them oml


	62. my heart can't shake the feeling they lied to us

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay. so since I've apparently not done a thorough enough job in explaining the D/s dynamic in the past, i'm just gonna link you guys to an article on Psychology Today explaining BDSM lifestyles. [click here to view that article.](https://www.google.com/amp/s/www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/all-about-sex/201206/loving-introduction-bdsm%3famp)
> 
> i am NOT writing an unhealthy relationship between keith and lance in this story. i am not a bad person for writing their relationship this way. this is a healthy BDSM relationship between two consenting people. keith is not enforcing rules on lance that he doesn't want. lance is happily allowing keith to control him. he doesn't only need it, he likes and wants it. frankly, nobody is in the position to tell anyone that the things they enjoy in their private relationship are wrong or unhealthy.
> 
> if BDSM or D/s is not your cup of tea, this story is not for you. i'm frankly really surprised so many people don't already know this stuff. this isn't exactly an uncommon AU in fanfic. but please don't make me out like i'm a bad person or that i'm writing a cringey or unhealthy relationship just because this type of fic is not your cup of tea. this is a healthy D/s dynamic and that's that. it's a very particular genre. if you don't like it, don't read it. nobody is forcing you to keep reading this fic or any of the sequels.
> 
> whew. ANYWAY. here's pill 62! the plot thickens!!

"You know what?"

"What?"

"You never answered my question that one time."

"Huh? What question?"

" _Why do they call it a drive through if you have to stop?_ Don't laugh at me, I'm serious! It doesn't make any _sense_ , Lance! Explain this shit to me!"

Lance threw his head back in laughter. Keith watched, a sense of amazement tingling through him. He wondered if Lance knew his Dom liked to make him laugh just to appreciate the glorious sight that was his happiness.

It was strange, sitting at the same table, in the same noisy cafeteria, at the same shitty school, making the same stupid joke - and yet _everything_ was so different than it had been just six weeks before.

Lance wasn't a timid, shaky, tearful mess anymore. He was loud. He was boisterous. He was outgoing, he had a deadass sense of humor, and most importantly, he had a heart of pure gold. He wasn't a walking hurricane of agony and terror anymore.

He was just... _Lance._

He was, to Keith, completely and undeniably flawless.

So, yeah, Keith drank in the sight of his sub grinning wide and laughing out loud without fear of being heard. He drank it like it was a goddamn elixir of life, because it was.

He was in love. Sue him.

But his enjoyment of the view was interrupted. Naturally. Their moments of unabashed happiness together seemed to have a tendency to be short-lived.

This particular moment was short-lived because Lance wasn't laughing anymore when he caught sight of that Hunk kid walking their way. His body language changed. He grew immediately apprehensive. Keith grew immediately _prepared to throw hands_ , because what on the entire planet could possibly be important enough that this guy saw fit to interrupt Lance's mirth?

As Hunk grew near, Keith began to notice he was in anything but a casual mood. His eyes were glistening, his eyebrows drawn together, his lips wobbling. His strides were long and intentional, as if he wanted to get to them as soon as possible without running. His short, long-haired sophomore friend trailed behind him at a slower pace, looking awkward, like she was only there for moral support or something.

"Is it true?" Hunk asked before he'd even stopped in front of their table. He paid no mind to Keith at all. His gaze was locked on Lance, who looked back at him blankly. "Lance, I'm not kidding, man. Is it _true_?"

"Is what true?" Keith stepped in, seeing Lance's discomfort clear as day. He reached across the table to place a grounding hand over his sub's. "Why are you bothering him? Go the hell away."

"Be nice," Lance said mildly. Keith clenched his jaw tight. "Is what true, Hunk? I don't know what you're talking about."

Hunk held up his graviphone to display a video. Keith's heart stopped cold for half a second. Then relief flooded through him. It wasn't one of Lance's recorded assaults, _thank fucking God._

The face on the screen was -

Keith squinted.

Shiro? _What the hell?_

Lance's eyes widened in a way that Keith might have found comical if he weren't so confused (and, frankly, scared.)

"Can I...?" Lance made a reaching motion toward the phone. Hunk gulped as he hesitantly handed it over.

"What's he saying?" Keith questioned impatiently.

Lance shushed him, then clicked the volume-up button a few times, laying the phone flat on the table. Keith watched the upside-down face of his father and his stomach twisted at the words.

"...are things happening to the students - to _your children_ \- at the Galaxy Garrison that the administration does not want you to know about. Specifically, to the sub students..."

"Oh, God," Lance whispered. Fingers came up to intertwine in his hair, pulling tight in frustration. "He _didn't_."

"...don't want to do anything about it. They have _refused_ to help stop the horrible injustices taking place behind closed doors. These Dom students have made videos of themselves assaulting their sub classmates and uploaded them publicly..."

"Lance..." Keith said in a shaking voice, watching his sub's bottom lip begin to tremble finely. "Maybe...maybe we shouldn't watch this right now, okay? Let's just - we'll go call Shiro and ask him about it, alright?"

Lance shook his head. He moved the phone out of Keith's reach when the Dom hesitantly reached to take it. Keith pursed his lips and pulled his hand back, fingers curling tight against his palm.

He _so_ wished Lance wouldn't do this right here, out in public, showcasing his vulnerable emotions to a school full of people who wished to exploit them.

But this was _his_ life. This was his trauma, his suffering; these were his scars. There were a lot of things Keith could and should control for Lance where his safety, health, and pleasure were concerned.

This was not one of them.

Sometimes, Lance was going to have to fight his own battles. Sometimes Keith wouldn't be able to save him. Sometimes it was simply better suited for Lance to save himself. And as much as it pained him to watch as Lance's Dom, Keith was just going to have to learn how to be okay with that.

If he couldn't stand back when the time was right to do so, who was to say he wouldn't one day end up like Lance's father?

Who was to say all the power his sub had lovingly entrusted him with could not go to his head and corrupt his heart if abused? That he couldn't one day _be_ that Dom, holding Lance down from his true potential, refusing him even something as clearly necessary and deserved as contact with one's own child?

Keith had made a decision as a kid. He'd made it while watching his Dom foster parents beat their subs into submission (along with Keith himself.) He'd made it while watching them demand respect they hadn't earned, rather than doing something that made them _worthy_ of a life-mate's respect and devotion.

He made the decision that he was not going to be like them. He stood by that promise still today. It was the most important one he'd ever made.

So Keith continued to listen to Shiro's voice, leaning closer over the table to hear the words, since Lance had pulled the phone up close to his face and the image was no longer in his sight. Still, he made no more moves to take the device from his sub's hands.

"...will not, as I've said, take any action against the Dom students in question. They claim we simply don't have enough proof that their victims didn't want it, despite the videos evidencing clear red flags and warnings, such as lack of healthy subspace and the blatant ignoring of what appear to be safewords."

Keith didn't fail to notice that Shiro wasn't anywhere near exposing Lance's identity. In fact, he was stretching the truth a bit, claiming there were multiple victims when there was really only one. He felt a twinge of guilt for doubting his father - Shiro and Adam loved Lance nearly as much as he did. They wouldn't do that to him.

But Keith looked at Hunk's face, and he _knew_ Hunk knew. The poor kid looked like he was trying not to break down in tears. He supposed it was only Hunk's former friendship with Lance, his small bits of inside knowledge on the situation, that had allowed him to piece together the puzzle and realize who Shiro was speaking about.

Lance had told Keith, lying on his chest in bed one night, all about Hunk. How their friendship started. All the great moments, all the daring midnight adventures and careless fun he'd dragged Hunk into, just for the hell of it.

How their friendship _ended._

Keith could not bring himself to feel any sympathy for this sub's dismay at realizing how badly he'd fucked up. Because he _had_ fucked up, and Keith was not nearly as forgiving as Lance. He deserved to be upset. He'd done something pretty fucking upsetting.

"My colleagues and I refuse to stand idly by and watch these innocent children suffer any longer. If America's legal system and the administration of the Galaxy Garrison will not help the students suffering right beneath their noses, then we will. We've taken matters into our hands."

Lance gasped. He dropped the phone in shock. Keith caught sight of the flipped upside-down picture of his father and understood why.

In his hand was a wrinkled piece of white paper, one-eighth covered in red-inked handwriting. Sloppy handwriting, from somebody who was too young to have spent a lot of time in elementary school on holding pens and handwriting on old-fashioned stationary.

_I...kind of made a hit list?_ Keith recalled meekly admitting to Lance as they baked cookies in the kitchen one sunny Sunday morning at Lance's insistence. _I didn't do anything with it, but...you know. Those eight who hurt you. I have their names. Or - had. Shiro took it away from me._

Lance had pursed his lips thoughtfully, his hand slowing where it rolled a lump of dough into a perfect sphere, and made an admission of his own: _I don't even remember all their names. I lost track. Two of them never even told me._

On the screen, Shiro glanced down at the list, and began to read. "Chester Malard. Theodore Osford. Leanna Pester. Darcy..."

"I think I'm gonna be sick." Lance mumbled. His skin had, indeed, taken on a sickly pallor.

The sub shoved Hunk's phone back into his hands, and was off like a shot before Keith could reach to stop him. He pushed through the crowd in an uncharacteristic lack of manners, not a single _excuse me_ passing his lips. Hunk opened his mouth as if to call out after his former friend, then closed it in defeat.

Keith shot him a bitter, "Thanks for fucking upsetting my sub," before taking off after the familiar head of hair weaving through the cafeteria.

He finally caught up to Lance in the empty hallway. The absurd noise of the cafeteria became muffled behind the automatic door once it closed.

Lance was pacing back and forth, shaking his hands out at his sides as if he could shake his anxiety away. Keith recognized his breathing pattern. Inhale for four seconds, hold for seven, exhale for eight. A self-help method to calm oneself down from the precarious ledge of a panic attack. Lance used it relatively often.

"Lance..." he whispered, gently placing a hand on his mate's shoulder in hopes of gaining some form of eye contact. Lance stopped pacing, turning to face Keith, but kept his eyes averted. Or, more accurately, kept them flitting nervously between the walls and the floor, the doors and the ceiling, as if waiting for something to jump out and attack.

"I'm okay," Lance said. It sounded less than convincing. "I'll...I'll _be_ okay. I know how to do this. I'm not gonna panic. It's fine. I'm fine."

Keith wasted no more time in pulling the taller boy into an embrace, softly encouraging a shade-too-pale face to find sanctuary in his shoulder. Lance went willingly. Keith felt his sub's body relaxing marginally at the proffered comfort.

"I'm so sorry," he murmured against the shell of the sub's ear. His hands roamed soothingly over a warm back and arms whose goosebumps he could feel through the uniform sleeves. "I'm _so_ sorry, sweetheart. I swear, I had no idea he was going to do that."

"I know you didn't. Neither did I. That's the problem." Lance sniffled and pulled his head back up to face Keith, wiping the away the wetness that had gathered in his eyes but had yet to spill over. "I'm gonna go splash some water on my face, or something. I'll be right back."

"Okay," Keith whispered, reluctantly dropping his hands back to his sides. "Do you want to do that alone?"

"Yeah. I'm sorry. I just need a minute to myself."

"Don't be sorry. You have no reason to be sorry. Take your time, okay? I'll be out here."

Lance nodded shakily and slinked off down the hall to the bathroom. Keith watched him go, rivers of various emotions mingling together into one big crashing ocean that he couldn't decipher.

Once Lance was out of sight and earshot, Keith pulled his phone out of his bag and found a familiar, frequently-called name in his contacts. He tapped his foot impatiently against the tile as he waited for Shiro to pick up.

_"Keith? Aren't you supposed to be in class?"_

"Can you come down to the school? We need to talk."


	63. so don't bow down when you could be rising up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The noise was too much. It was overstimulating his senses, and it was so frustrating to sit there and listen to them argue about him as if he wasn't in the room. Lance understood that both Shiro's actions and Keith's outrage over them came from a place of caring. But nobody had stopped and taken a moment to consider what he thought about all this.
> 
> Or, better yet, to ask.

Lance was expecting to spend study hall actually in study hall that day, _actually_ studying.

Instead, he sat on the couch in Adam's office with his knees drawn up to chest, a blanket around his shoulders, holding the warm mug of tea Adam had pressed kindly into his hands while assuring him he'd take care of his and Keith's absence from class.

He was supposed to be relaxing. He was supposed to be getting himself together so he could go back to class next period with a renewed mind. But relaxing turned out to be pretty hard to do with the constant stream of bickering in the background from the other three occupants of the room.

"You should have _asked him_ ," Keith growled from where he stood beside the couch, hands clenched into fists at his sides. "This was his trauma, his story, not yours. You don't get to go and share it with the whole damn world without his permission. Pretty ironic, considering that's the same thing those Doms did -"

" _Keith_ ," Adam said wearily. He removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose between two fingers. "Can we please calm down and talk sensibly about this? There's no need to go hurling accusations."

"I'm not accusing him of anything, it's just a fact -"

"I didn't even mention his name, Keith. Nobody's going to know it was him. Lance's identity is perfectly safe."

"Yeah, until somebody actually goes and looks for the videos and finds his face in every single one of them."

"Keith, Takashi, _please_ \- I really don't think this is productive to -"

The noise was too much. It was overstimulating his senses, and it was so _frustrating_ to sit there and listen to them argue about him as if he wasn't in the room. Lance understood that both Shiro's actions and Keith's outrage over them came from a place of caring. But nobody had stopped and taken a moment to consider what _he_ thought about all this.

Or, better yet, to ask.

"Adam, don't even stand there and act like you weren't a part of this. You condoned it. You're just as much at fault here as -"

"Nobody is at fault, actually, because we didn't do anything wrong -"

"Like hell you didn't!"

"Nobody's listening, Keith! What were we supposed to do? Just let this go? Pretend it wasn't a big deal and -"

God, he was _done_ with this. Lance slammed the mug down on the corner of a rickety wooden side table, splashing hot tea onto the surface. " _Hey!_ "

Three pairs of eyes landed on him, wide with surprise. Lance took a deep breath, feeling a blush heat his face. He couldn't bring himself to regret the ourburst, though. He had things to say that needed to be said. And they weren't even acknowledging his prescence, much less including him in the coversation.

"I'm sorry, Lance," Adam spoke first. "We shouldn't be arguing in front of you like this. We'll talk about this at home. You two should really get back to class, anyway -"

"No," Lance said firmly. "I _want_ to talk about it. That's the problem! You're all standing there trying to solve my problems for me, and I'm _right_ here! Did you ever think maybe _I_ actually have an opinion about this?"

The six eyes that had so quickly turned to him now turned to their own feet even quicker. Said feet shuffled awkwardly in place.

"You're right," Keith said after a moment. He lifted his head to gaze softly at Lance, taking one of his shaking hands. "I'm sorry, love. This is your fight. You should be the one telling us how to handle it."

"Agreed," Shiro said sheepishly. "I'm sorry, Lance."

Adam nodded. "What do you think, son? Would you like us to take the video down?"

Tears sprang unannounced to Lance's eyes.

He was so unused to being taken this seriously. So unused to people actually caring about his opinions, about what he did and didn't want. Of course, Keith had helped a lot recently in normalizing the idea for Lance that his consent was the pinnacle thing.

But to have a whole room of people all so easily agree to listen to him - it was entirely unheard of. He sniffled, rubbing his sleeve over his eyes.

"I want the video to stay up," he decided, voice wavering, but certain nontheless. He turned his gaze on Shiro, who looked back at him with both regret and affection. "I think you did the right thing. I just - I wish you would have asked me first, is all."

"You're right, buddy," Shiro said. "I should have asked. I'm sorry I didn't. Are you sure you want us to keep the video up?"

Lance nodded. "Yeah. You were right, what you said in it. Nobody else is listening. And I don't want them to get away with what they're doing, because it could somebody else next time, you know?"

"What if people find out it's you?" Keith asked. He was so _worried._ It was practically leaking out of his pores. Lance wished he could do more to reassure his Dom, but only time would be able to ease his concerns. "They're going to start coming after you, Lance. Not just those Doms, but everyone. You know they will."

"And you'll protect me." Lance said the words easily, like it was the simplest thing in the world. To him, it was. Keith always protected him. "I'm not worried about it. Not when I have you."

Keith's frowned turned into the slightest of smiles. A sad one, but still a smile.

"Damn right I will." He lowered himself onto the couch beside Lance, pulling the sub's head to rest on his shoulder. "It's your choice. If you want the video to stay up, we'll keep it up."

"I think you're making the right decision," Adam praised. He looked proud. Like he was watching a kid he'd raised do something incredible and brave. Like Lance was his own child.

And Lance supposed, in a way, he was.

"These things are gonna change," Lance said. He allowed his eyes to flutter closed momentarily in peace when Keith's hand found his hair, fingertips gently massaging his scalp. "But they aren't gonna change on their own. We have to change them."

Keith looked down at him with a raised eyebrow. "I said it once, and I'll say it again. You're _way_ too mature for me."

"We been knew, babe."

Adam scoffed, and Shiro grinned at the two of them. Lance took a steadying breath.

The words were easy enough to say. They were harder to believe.

_Could_ this really change anything? Did the four of them even have the power to do so? Or were they only fish swimming upstream, too weak to fight the current pushing against them?

Time would have to be the judge of that. The video was out there, people were going to watch it, and minds would be influenced. Some for the better. Others, not so much. All they could do now was wait.

So Lance allowed himself to finally relax, pressed against Keith's side - and he waited.


	64. your mouth is a hurricane, you'll drown me in the rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "It is, though," Lance pushed, on the verge of desperation. "I broke two rules. You should punish me, right?"
> 
> Keith seemed to catch his drift, then, hearing the hint of longing in his sub's tone, feeling the stiffness of Lance's muscles against him. He placed a finger beneath Lance's chin to gently lift his head up toward the stream of water, rinsing the shampoo from his hair.
> 
> "Do you...want me to punish you?" He asked hesitantly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fair warning, there is smut in this chapter! not as explicit as it has been previously, though
> 
> enjoy!

"Are you mad at me for breaking a rule?"

The words had been pent-up inside Lance's head all day, dying to break free. He hadn't meant to blurt them out while Keith lovingly, soothingly worked shampoo through his sub's hair in the shower.

And yet, there they were, tumbling free without his permission.

Lance couldn't help it. He was beginning to understand what Keith was saying about the guilt growing worse the longer he went without punishment. It was gnawing at his insides, threatening to devour him. He felt _horrible_.

Keith blinked. "What? When did you break a rule?"

"At lunch today," Lance said. He lowered his forehead onto Keith's shoulder. Keith paused for a moment, then his hands slowly continued their work cleansing his hair. "I left you without permission. Ran out. And then I was mean when I interrupted you guys. I wasn't polite at all. So two rules, actually."

The long silence that followed made Lance more nervous than holding his guilt inside. It almost made him wish he'd never spoken at all.

Finally, Keith answered him, words careful and measured. "No, Lance. I'm not mad. That's - that was a totally different scenario. That's not an everyday leaving my side without permission, or an everyday rudeness. It's not the same thing. The context matters."

Lance thought he should feel relieved to discover Keith wasn't angry at him for disobeying.

He didn't feel relieved at all, though. He felt... _disappointed_. The ease with which Keith forgave him was nice and all, but it did nothing to stop this terrible feeling from clawing the insides of his stomach until he felt sick.

"It is, though," Lance pushed, on the verge of desperation. "I broke _two rules_. You should punish me, right?"

_Please punish me. Please do something. God, just make this stop._

Keith seemed to catch his drift, then, hearing the hint of longing in his sub's tone, feeling the stiffness of Lance's muscles against him. He placed a finger beneath Lance's chin to gently lift his head up toward the stream of water, rinsing the shampoo from his hair.

"Do you... _want_ me to punish you?" He asked hesitantly.

"Yes," Lance breathed. "Keith, I just...I need you to. Please. I feel _awful_. I need you to make it _stop_."

Keith's eyes were full of compassion and sympathy when Lance tilted his head back to center. Lance felt a similar frustration as he'd experienced earlier in the day welling up inside him.

He didn't _want_ that. He didn't want Keith to feel bad for him. Normally, the reminder that his Dom cared deeply about his feelings and was sad to see him suffer was a comfort.

It wasn't that night.

He wanted Keith to frown, to tell him he'd messed up, to be upset with him. He wanted to get what he deserved for breaking his rules. It was the only thing that could possibly make him feel any better.

"Are you sure?" Keith asked. Lance groaned.

"Yes, I'm sure," he said. "Please stop doing that."

"Doing what?"

"Being _nice_. Don't be nice. Tell me I was bad today."

Keith faltered. "Lance..."

"Please. Just do it. Keith, I'm begging you."

Keith swallowed and nodded. "Okay. If that's what you need."

Then Lance watched his face change, shifting from uncertainty to disappointment - bordering on angry, even.

Lance felt an inexplicable urge to drop to his knees, to hang his head low, to beg for forgiveness. Were they not standing on a precariously slippery shower floor, he probably would have.

It was perfect.

"You were a bad sub today, Lance," Keith said, voice low and firm, entirely unkind. "You broke your rules. You ran away from me. What did I say about that? You know you're not supposed to leave my side without permission. What were you thinking?"

Keith took one of his wrists in a tight, controlling grip. The Dom's other hand reached around to land a sharp smack to his sub's ass. The sound echoed off the tile floors and walls. Lance gasped in surprise.

_Yes. That's perfect. Please, keep going._

"I'm sorry, Sir," he said mournfully, hanging his head.

"Damn right you are. Those rules are to keep you safe. _Anything_ could have happened to you. Any Dom could have found you in that hall without me there to protect you, could have dragged you away, could have hurt you. Do you understand that? That was _so_ unsafe. Unacceptable."

And, suddenly, the anger in Keith's voice wasn't all that fake. Lance could hear sincerity creeping in, as if Keith was just now realizing Lance had put his safety at risk by taking off.

"I understand, Sir. I'm sorry, Sir."

Another smack landed firmly on the other side of his ass. Lance had to swallow the moan that rose in his throat, his dick twitching with interest. _More more more please more_.

"And you can't just interrupt people like that, Lance, that's _rude_. What should you have said? Tell me. What was the right way to say all of that?"

Lance wracked his brain, heart racing, though he felt the farthest thing from panic. The more Keith spoke, the more that ugly, overwhelming sensation of remorse left him, and the faster tranquility trickled in.

"I should have said excuse me, Sir. I should have told you nicely that I wanted to say something, Sir. I should have...should have just _said_ I was frustrated with you instead of shouting. I'm sorry, Sir."

"Yes, you should have. You should have waited for me to help you out of the cafeteria. You should have used your words to say how you felt instead of losing your temper. You're going to do better next time, aren't you, beautiful?"

One final smack, louder and harder than the previous two. Lance allowed a moan to finally fall from his lips, and allowed his forehead to fall back onto Keith's shoulder. He fought the urge to roll his hips into his Dom's, to reach down and touch himself, knowing he'd only be breaking another rule.

It was - _exhilarating_. All of it. Trusting Keith to punish him properly and take all his bad feelings away, knowing he would never dare truly harm him. Feeling so aroused by the sharp, punishing spanks, but knowing he would have to rely on Keith if he wanted any sort of friction or release.

It was a headrush, pure and simple. He felt absolutely dizzy with excitement.

"Yes, Sir, I will. I'm sorry."

And just like that, Keith's voice was soft again. His hands carded through clean, wet hair, stroked down the side of Lance's face that wasn't pressed against the Dom's skin, slowly making their way down to hold his hips.

"That's my good boy," Keith praised softly, sweetly, practically cooing. "Good job, sweetheart. Did you like that? Do you feel better?"

"Yes, Sir," Lance groaned. "So much better. God. Thank you, Sir."

Keith hummed. "You can call me by name now, sweet boy. Punishment's over."

"Don't want to. Wanna call you Sir."

Keith growled a little, low and possessive, a whiplash change from his previous sweetness.

"I bet you do," he said, voice several notes lower than it had been only a moment before. "I have such a good sub. My sweetheart knows his place, doesn't he? Knows he's all mine."

"I am. I'm all yours. I love you."

"I love you more, beautiful."

And before Lance could protest that - because he was entirely certain it just wasn't _possible_ for somebody to be any more in love with a person than he was with Keith - he found his mouth suddenly far too busy. Because Keith was shoving a hungry tongue past his lips, groaning as he explored a mouth that was surely as familiar to him as his own, biting lightly at Lance's bottom lip.

"Sir," Lance said between kisses. " _Sir_. I'm - Keith. I'm ready."

Keith pulled away from him, breathing slightly heavy, and peered at him in confusion. "Ready for what?"

"I'm - _ready_. For you. All of you."

He physically _felt_ all the air leave Keith's lungs in a single woosh. His own heart pounded in the very best way.

He hadn't been ready, for a long while. Hadn't wanted anything more than hands and mouths and grinding, fearing that anything further would trigger the mother of all panic attacks.

Lance was still a little worried about that, to be honest. But he was starting to realize that it was, more than anything, a fear of the unknown.

A fear of how that would _feel_ when he actually wanted it. A fear that he wouldn't like it. A fear that sex had been ruined for him forever after being stolen so many times against his will. A fear that maybe blowjobs in the library and grinding on the couch would be what they were confined to for the rest of their lives.

Even greater than those fears, though, was his determination.

He wasn't going to let the evil people who had hurt him so badly get the best of him. Lance refused to allow their impact on him to go so far that he couldn't even be fully intimate with his life-mate simply out of fear.

He refused to let them win.

"You don't have to be ready," Keith said firmly, holding Lance's face in such a way that he was forced to make eye contact, forced the understand the gravity of what he was asking. "Okay? Please understand that, Lance. I'm never going to rush you. We can wait another ten damn years, if that's what you need. I just want you to feel safe."

Lance shook his head frantically. "No. What I need is _you_ , tonight. I want to feel you. I want you to take me."

And this was how Lance found himself being lovingly dried with an overly fluffy towel just a few minutes later, being lead down the hall to their bedroom with said towel wrapped around him.

It was how he found himself following gentle commands to _get on your hands and knees, sweetheart, on the bed, okay?_ and humming in content at a praise of _good boy. Fuck, you look so good for me, spread open like that._

It was how he found himself moaning out breathless confirmations of _green light_ in response to frequent check-ins of _what color, sweet boy?_ as Keith slowly, _slowly_ prepped him, lubed fingers added one by one to stretch him open.

It was how he found himself with Keith's hips pressed flush against his ass, listening to his Dom's loud moans mingling with his own, listening to Sir's praises of _fuck, yes, oh God, so good, sweetheart_ as Keith began to fuck him in slow, shallow motions.

And it was, after a clumsy and quick five minutes by the inexperienced pair, how they both found themselves officially unable to call themselves virgins by anyone's definition. Bolts of hot lightning shot through his veins when Keith cried out his name repeatedly and his ass was filled with cum. Subspace overtook him when he was given permission for his own release and finished off by a firm hand stroking him.

"I love you," Keith's words followed him into the blissful, white nothingness of subspace. He vaguely felt himself being so carefully turned over to lay on his back. A damp cloth was at his thighs, cleaning him. "You're so perfect. I just - can't _believe_ you're mine. I love you, Lance."

_I love you, too. So much. Thank you, thank you, thank you._


	65. there's a hate inside of me like some kind of master

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Takashi..." Adam said, a pained whisper. Fingertips reached out to brush against his, soft and questioning: are you gonna be okay?
> 
> Shiro didn't feel like he should dignify the unspoken question with an answer. Adam had to know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahhhhh I didn't post a chapter this morning I am a HORRIBLE PERSON. expect another one up later tonight to make up for it!
> 
> enjoy!

"But why do we even _need_ such a big turkey? The three of us can't even finish the leftovers from our small ones each year before they go bad. I know we've added another teenage boy to the list of mouths to feed since last Thanksgiving, but _really_..."

Shiro smiled at Adam's half-hearted complaints about his sub's dead-set decision to purchase the biggest turkey he could find when he went to do his Thanksgiving shopping over the upcoming weekend.

Of course, Adam was right. They hardly needed a gigantic entrée just for the four of them. But it wasn't about that, really.

It was more about the fact that Shiro, an only child and now the parent of an only child, never had a big enough family to necessitate a Thanksgiving feast in abundance like the ones he always saw on TV. And, of course, he still didn't. But their family felt so different now that Lance had joined it.

Because Lance hadn't just joined their family. He had completed it.

If there was ever going to be a year deserving of an absurdly overdramatic giant Thanksgiving turkey to grace their tiny kitchen table, this was the one.

And, besides: Shiro didn't know how many years longer he would be with them.

He didn't know if he'd be at home with them for the holidays ten years from now, or if he'd be lying in a hospice bed, in constant pain as his disease reached its final stage and his muscles began to atrophy at an alarming rate.

He knew their family would grow again, one day, eventually. He knew Keith and Lance would become parents at some point, bringing their child(ren) around to the house every holiday. 

He just didn't know whether or not he'd live to see it.

But there was no way in hell he was going to spill his true reasoning to Adam. The last time any verbal mention was made of the fact that Shiro had a relatively short future ahead of him, it hadn't gone well.

'Hadn't gone well' as in Adam ended up spending a solid hour ugly-sobbing into his sub's hair, lamenting how _unfair_ it all was.

Shiro had already made peace with his reality. Adam was...still in denial. Shiro saw no good reason to shatter his Dom's heart into a million tiny slivers any more times than necessary. 

So he didn't. This was what he did instead: he kept his mouth shut, listened, and smiled. 

Let Adam believe his sub was just being ridiculous and sentimental for the sake of good fun. Why not? What he didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

The man who interrupted Adam's teasing by marching furiously toward them down the empty, before-school hall, though - _that_ might hurt him.

Or, at least, Iverson _looked_ entirely prepared to harm the two of them. Strangle them, more like; _harm_ was not intense enough to describe the hurricane of rage their boss was already displaying.

Adam, ever the protector, shot an arm out in front of Shiro to stop him dead in his tracks. His face grew hard and cold. It was a rare expression on the Dom, who was nerdy and crazy smart and sweet, who blushed more often in any given year than Shiro had in his entire life. It was an expression that was more fitting of their son.

Shiro understood it, though. Iverson looked... _really_ pissed. He didn't think he'd ever seen the guy so angry (and Shiro had a tendency to push all the wrong buttons when it came to Iverson, so that was really saying something.)

For once, Shiro didn't roll his eyes at his Dom's overprotective nature. He accepted it wholeheartedly. Adam's hand pushed on his abdomen, encouraging the sub to stand behind him, and Shiro went willingly, his fist gripping and twisting the back of Adam's shirt. 

And, as it turned out, Iverson had no interest in deferring his rage to the man who put himself on the frontlines. His eyes-blazing, jaw-clenched gaze was locked firmly on Shiro. He acted as if Adam wasn't even there, going so far as to pointedly ignore the younger Dom's low growl of warning. 

" _Shirogane!_ " Iverson snarled. "Who the hell do you think you are?"

"Who do you think _you_ are?" Adam shot back. Iverson spared him the barest of indifferent glances. Shiro gulped.

_Adam, you absolute idiot, he could end your career with a snap of his fingers. Shut up, shut up, shut up._

And Shiro genuinely thought that Adam might end up slinking out of the Garrison unemployed that day if he didn't put his professional face back on immediately.

 _God_ , he was so wrong.

"You weren't going to help," Shiro said. He stuck his chin up, head held high, and fought to keep his voice steady. "Somebody had to do something. You were content to allow innocent children to suffer, and let rapists walk free. So I took matters into my own hands."

Judging by Iverson's excessive anger, Shiro was half-expecting to have a fist thrown his way. Adam must have had the same thought, because he growled again, deep and threatening.

But Iverson didn't hit him. Nor did he pay Adam another split second of attention. In fact, much to Shiro's surprise and utter confusion, the man grew almost immediately calm. 

He straightened his back and tugged at his shirt to smooth it out. His face was no longer the epitome of fury - it was, instead, something much scarier. It was entirely neutral. 

"You are dismissed from your duties as a substitute professor at the Galaxy Garrison," Iverson said. "Effective immediately. Gather your things and be off my campus within the hour."

An unfamiliar feeling of icy shock raced through his veins, freezing his blood. Shiro's breath caught in his throat, stuck.

There were a lot of things he'd been expecting and had come to terms with the night he and Adam sat down to upload the video.

This wasn't one of them.

"You can't do that," Adam tried to protest. Iverson shot him another look of thinly-veiled contempt. 

"Would you like to be out on your ass, too?" Their boss - no, _Adam's_ boss - snapped, teeth bared. "Because I'm about five seconds away from showing you the door right along with your little rebel here. You're lucky I haven't already. 

"Adam, shut up," Shiro quickly interjected, seeing the anger flashing in Adam's eyes and his mouth opening to retort. They had two boys at home to feed, clothe, and shelter. They could not afford to both be fired. "It's fine, really. Don't worry about it."

Iverson's mouth twisted up into some cruel, vindictive version of a smile. "Yes, Professor Wyler. _Don't worry about it._ "

And, honestly? If Iverson had just left things there and waked away, Shiro probably wouldn't have minded all that much. It wouldn't have drained his courage one bit. What did he need this job for, anyway? He was hardly ever called in as it was.

But Iverson didn't leave it there. He had to twist the knife in a little deeper. He just _had_ to share a tiny tidbit of knowledge Shiro could have happily lived the rest of his days not knowing. 

Shiro _knew_ hurting him was Iverson's goal in that moment. Because the expression on his face was one of sadistic glee as he said, "You wanna know the worst part about all this, Shirogane?"

"And what would that be, Headmaster Iverson?"

"I was planning on sending _you_ , of everyone among the Garrison staff, for specialist training - I wanted to send you with the Holts on their Kerberos mission. Guess I'll just have to find someone else, now, won't I?"

Iverson wasted no more time on the pair of them. He turned on his heel and marched away, hands held properly behind his back, significantly calmer than he'd been when he arrived. 

Shiro stood with Adam's arm still splayed out protectively in front of him. His own grip on the Dom's shirt was white-knuckled. His heart raced and blood pounded in his ears as the reality of his situation sank in, and he watched his lifelong hopes and dreams crumble like a sandcastle before his very eyes.

He'd always wanted to go to space. It really wasn't even that difficult of a thing to do.

At least, it wasn't a difficult thing for a _Dom_ to do. But for a sub, constantly pushed down and degraded in an environment that viewed him as unworthy of even piloting a simple cargo ship? That was a different story altogether. 

Shiro only wanted to achieve two things before his death, he decided the week he was diagnosed, now six years gone: he wanted to become a father, and he wanted to see the stars for himself, burning right before his eyes, close enough to touch.

At least he had accomplished the former.

Failing at the latter wouldn't have been nearly as painful if it wasn't dangled in front of his face before being snatched away. It would have hurt so much less had he never been told exactly how close he'd come to having that dream as reality.

But, of course, Iverson knew that.

Keith was right all along. They never should have made that video. It did nothing to have all of the Garrison's secrets aired out for the world to see. It did not, for a _second_ , make Iverson consider taking action.

What it _did_ do was cost the shattering of a man's lifelong dream. A man who didn't have much life left to pursue it.

"Takashi..." Adam said, a pained whisper. Fingertips reached out to brush against his, soft and questioning: _are you gonna be okay?_

Shiro didn't feel like he should dignify the unspoken question with an answer. Adam had to _know._

Instead, he turned and went back down the hall the same way they'd come, in the opposite direction of Iverson. He went without so much as a word or even a backward glance at his Dom. Adam did not follow.


	66. i tried to save you but i can't find the answer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro didn't believe it. Not really, not quite, not yet.
> 
> But if it made Lance feel better, he could fake it.

"Are you mad at me?"

Shiro blinked, startled back into reality from the abyss that was his mind to realize he had, yet again, zoned out in the center of a noisy grocery store. How long he'd been staring blankly at the box of stuffing mix in his hands, he had no idea.

The question was asked in a timid and sad voice. It wasn't an unfamiliar tone to hear coming from Lance - but it _was_ a stark contrast to the cheerful, humorous mood Lance had been in as of late. Shiro felt a twinge of some darker, deeper emotion stirring in his chest. Hearing Lance speak like that brought up a handful of ugly memories he would much rather forget.

"What?" He questioned, frowning at the boy next to him. Just a moment ago, Lance had been happily rambling about how excited he was to help make Thanksgiving dinner, just like he used to help his mother back home. Now he was shrinking in on himself, shoulders hunched, arms crossed. "Lance, buddy, of _course_ I'm not mad at you. Why would you think that?"

"You've just been quiet," Lance mumbled, frowning. He stared down at his foot, which scuffed nervously against the tile. "Didn't know if I was bothering you or something. I'm sorry."

Shiro threw the stuffing box into the cart and laid a firm hand on the kid's shoulder, giving him a gentle shake. " _Hey._ You never bother me, okay? Ever. I _love_ spending time with you. It's got nothing to do with you, kiddo. I promise. I've just...got a lot on my mind."

"Why? What's going on?" An ounce of understanding creeped onto the teenager's face. "Is this - is this about the video?"

Shiro held a breath in puffed cheeks. He exhaled it slowly, looking at Lance in a measuring way.

"I was fired," he said shortly. He didn't even want to _think_ about Kerberos, let alone talk about it. That was undoubtedly going to be a sore spot until the very end of his days. "Iverson wasn't exactly a fan."

Lance's eyes widened, eyebrows drown and bottom lip pouting with guilt.

"I told you not to take it down," he said in a wavering voice. "Guess you really should have. I'm -"

"Don't say sorry," Shiro said with a hint of warning. "This wasn't your fault, Lance. He probably saw it before we ever had that conversation. I doubt things like this stay out of his scope for too long."

"You didn't have to do all that for me," Lance pressed. "It didn't even do any good, anyway. We should have just let things be."

He _hated_ that look on the kid's face, guilt for Shiro's career and grief for his own innocence mingling to create probably the saddest emotion Shiro had ever set eyes on. And as much as he could relate to it, he didn't want Lance to have to feel that way, too. This boy had already born the weight of the world on his shoulders. He didn't deserve to carry this, too.

So Shiro worked up the most convincing smile he could muster, and borrowed some of Lance's words from the other day.

"We just have to keep fighting, kiddo," he said. "It might take a while, but these things are going to change."

He watched Lance's face shift from guilt, to relief, to hope, all within the span of just a few seconds. The kid gave him a hesitant smile.

"Yeah," he said quietly. "They will."

Shiro didn't believe it. Not really, not quite, not yet.

But if it made Lance feel better, he could fake it.


	67. i'm holding onto you, i'll never let go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was, easily, his favorite Thanksgiving yet.
> 
> Not even because it was anything big or wild. It wasn't. It was the best just because he was here. And there was absolutely nowhere in the world he'd rather spend it.

"Oh my _God!_ Are you kidding me? _No!_ "

"I tried to warn you! Prepare yourself for disappointment, I said. My team's going to win, I said. But did you listen? _Nooo_."

"Oh, hush!"

Lance smiled, eyes fluttering closed as he leaned his head on Keith's shoulder, content to snuggle up close to his Dom and let the sound of Adam and Shiro's playful bickering wash over him. His stomach was achingly full, but he couldn't bring himself to regret a single bite.

This was, _easily_ , his favorite Thanksgiving yet.

Not even because it was anything big or wild. It wasn't. It was the best just because he was _here._ And there was absolutely nowhere in the world he'd rather spend it.

Keith's arm was snaked around his waist, one hand resting on his hip and the other gently tousling his hair in that soothing way he knew Lance adored. A soft, sweet kiss was pressed to his forehead.

"This is only the second time their teams have gone up against each other on Thanksgiving since I've been here," Keith murmured against his hair. Lance could feel the amused smirk on his face, and it made his smile widen, too. "Don't worry, the shitshow gets _way_ worse. It's glorious. You don't wanna miss it."

"I just _might_ miss it," Lance yawned. "I missed my annual post-turkey nap."

"Mmm...want me to nap with you, beautiful?" Keith offered. Lance shook his head.

It was quite a tempting proposition. Napping with Keith was one of his favorite things in the entire universe, hands down.

But he liked this, too. He liked sleepily snuggling against Keith's upright form on the couch, listening to Shiro and Adam argue like children. It felt like family. It felt like _home._

Which, inevitably, reminded him: "Do you know my family didn't contact me? Like...not at all. Not a word. On _Thanksgiving_." Lance paused, looking up at Keith, who watched him with sad, mournful eyes. "I wonder if they saw Shiro's video."

"You know what?" Keith said, pressing another series of firm kisses around his face. Lance allowed his eyes to close again, thoroughly enjoying being pampered so nicely. "It doesn't even matter, sweetheart. Forget about your family. They're dicks. You have a new one now."

Lance didn't fully agree. It wasn't his mother or his siblings who were dicks.

It was his father who was the complete and utter asshole. Everyone else just followed along with his stupid games, terrified of rebelling. Lance didn't blame them in the slightest for not reaching out. He remembered the feeling well.

Still, he only nodded against Keith's shoulder, grateful to have a Dom who was so intensely concerned with his feelings, who genuinely _wanted_ him to be happy.

But Keith wasn't done. He added, "And we're going to build our own family one day, hm? You and me. We'll treat our kids _way_ fucking better than your dad ever could. You'll be an amazing father, Lance."

_That_ \- that brought the most bittersweet tears to his eyes. He'd thought the same thing to himself many a time, hauled up in his bedroom and listening to his father scream and his mother cry, waiting for the storm to pass. _I'm never going to let my Dom walk all over my kids. I'll never be like you. Never, never, never._

To actually have that verbalized in the form of a promise was... _well._ It felt like closure.

"You will be, too," he murmured against Keith's shoulder, sniffling, then looked up to offer him a watery smile. Keith was smiling, too, sweet and kind. "We'll both be the cool dad."

"Mm, no. _I'll_ be the cool dad."

"Oh, shut up. You're the Dom. You'll be the Adam."

" _Hey!_ "

"Sorry, Adam!"

"Don't let him fool you. He's not really sorry."

" _Shhh!_ "


	68. i need you with me as i enter the shadows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance was unafraid of being in control every now and again, when he once was a stranger to the concept of even being in control of himself.
> 
> He was healing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> nnnghhhhfff i'm ngl I don't really like how this chapter turned out? like I love the idea of it but I feel like the writing is sloppy? idek WHY I don't like it tho so I cant fix it ahhhh
> 
> but I also feel kind of sick tonight (lmao, ironically) so maybe it's just me 
> 
> hope you guys enjoy it anyway!

There were two familiar, overly-moisturized hands at his face, the fingers unusually cold as they brushed sweaty hair off of his forehead. He groaned, and that sweet voice he loved so much suddenly sounded...off.

Because the tone it spoke in was not sweet at all - it was worried, verging on panic.

The hands moved to his shoulders, shaking him roughly.

"Keith?" The voice said, words trembling with unshed tears in a way that dug spikes of protective concern into Keith's chest. "Keith, baby, _please_. Please wake up. God, where do they keep the thermometer?"

He opened his eyes, slowly. The light blazing in through the window was horribly uncomfortable. His head pounded in protest.

"Wha' time 's it?" He croaked, allowing his eyes to squeeze shut again against the painful brightness.

The owner of the voice - _Lance_ \- gasped. A slim body threw itself at him in a hug. Keith's head was held close to his sub's chest, fingers carding through what Lance insisted on calling a mullet even though it absolutely was not.

" _Keith_ ," Lance breathed against him. "You scared me. You wouldn't wake up. I think you have a fever - a bad one. You're sweating. Do you feel okay? Do you know where you guys keep the thermometer? Oh God, Keith, baby, come here."

Had he the energy, Keith might have pointed out that the _come here_ was a bit meaningless since he already _was_ here, being squeezed too tightly against the sub in an embrace of pure relief. He was far too tired to try and pull away (not that he wanted to.)

He felt like absolute _shit_.

His entire body ached, muscles screaming in protest of their very existence. Lance was correct about him having a fever - that dizzy, distant, lightheaded feeling was unmistakable.

"Keith?" Lance asked again, shaking him a little. "Babe. Where do you guys keep the thermometer?"

"How the fuck am I 'sposed to know?" He mumbled almost incoherently. Lance sniffled, pressing a brief kiss to his burning, pounding temple.

The sniffle caused Keith enough concern that he once again braved the blinding sunlight to squint his eyes open.

Lance wasn't crying, but he looked pretty damn close, eyes red and misty, bottom lip trembling. Keith regretted being so rude to his sub, then, realizing how terrified he must have actually been. He wondered how long Lance had been trying to wake him up without any response.

"'M sorry," he whispered, curling tighter beneath the covers as fever chills surged down his spine, leaving goosebumps across his body. "Not tryin' to be mean. Don't feel good."

He really, _really_ didn't feel good. God, this sucked.

"Okay," Lance said, breathing shakily. "Okay. I'm gonna call Adam and Shiro and ask them, alright? They're probably in the middle of a Black Friday crowd, though, so they might not pick up."

Keith honestly didn't really care much at this point what Lance did or didn't do. He just wanted to go back to sleep. "'Kay."

* * *

When Keith woke again, with no recollection of having fallen asleep in the first place, there was a damp cloth at his forehead and a thermometer in his mouth, beeping to alert the user of its findings.

The stick was pulled slowly out from between his teeth.

"A hundred and four point two," a voice that was unmistakably Adam's whispered. The hands soothing through his hair paused, the thigh muscles his head was laying so nicely on tensed, and somebody gasped sharply above him.

"Is that really bad?" Lance fretted, also in hushed tones. "Should we be taking him to a hospital or something?"

"I think we should wait a little while." Shiro, the calm voice of reason. "Just keep that cloth on his head, keep the fan on, and don't let him have any blankets. We'll take his temperature again in ten minutes. If it's gone up, we'll go to the ER."

Keith thought those all sounded like horrible suggestions. He was already cold as fuck, why did he need a cold compress and a fan? Why couldn't he have a blanket? And they were out of their goddamn minds if they thought he was going to just let them drag him into a hospital without kicking and screaming the entire way.

But whatever. He wasn't going to waste his breath on fighting any of it. He was too exhausted.

"Keith...babe..." Lance murmured above him. Keith's entire being flooded with worry and guilt at the sound of his sub so scared and upset. Those fingers massaging through his hair were...really, _really_ nice, though. If there was an upside to all this, that was certainly it.

"Wha'?" He mumbled in response.

"Nothing. It's okay. Can you open your eyes, please?"

Somebody must have caught onto the fact that the lighting was what kept him from being able to fully awaken, because the curtains were suddenly pulled shut and the interior light was switched off. With no more threat of his eyes burning, Keith was free to blink them open fully.

He found Lance first, of course. His head was in the sub's lap, Lance's horribly sad expression hovering above him, hands soothing through Keith's hair and over his too-warm face. Adam stood beside Lance at the headboard, arms crossed and wearing a troubled frown, while Shiro was perched on the edge of the mattress.

"Hey, son," Adam said, kneeling at the side of the bed to be on eye-level. Keith blinked, his brain processing the words way too slowly. "How are you feeling?"

"Like shit."

Adam smiled a little at him.

"I know," he said, patting his son's shoulder reassuringly. "Lance did a great job taking care of you, though. I think you just have the flu or something. You're fine."

"Cool. Can I sleep?"

"Of course, buddy," Shiro said. "Go back to sleep."

Keith sighed, nuzzled his face into the soft pajama shirt over his sub's stomach, and slept.

* * *

It didn't hurt to open his eyes anymore the next time he came around, and the pounding headache was at least somewhat bearable.

Keith felt like his fever, too, must have gone down, because that feeling of malaise had mostly left him. He was relieved to see they hadn't gone and dragged him to a hospital for no good reason. Hospitals really weren't his thing. Spending several days trapped in one, recovering from surgery to fix internal bleeding, waiting to be placed in a new foster family where he'd been so sure all the same shit would happen again - that kind of ruined hospitals for him forever.

The second thing he noticed, after the relief of feeling better, was that his sub was curled up with his head on Keith's chest, sound asleep. Lance was still in his pajamas and his hair was a mess, despite the alarm clock on the nightstand reading just past two in the afternoon.

Keith remembered, suddenly, that he hadn't been available to help Lance change his clothes or comb his hair, seeing as he'd been passed out all day.

He gulped as he reached out a hand and gently shook Lance awake. His sub stirred on his chest, blinked, yawned, stretched - then finally seemed to realize what had woken him.

"Keith!" Lance exclaimed, all sleepiness gone in an instant as his face lit up. He cradled Keith's head between two hands. Lance's skin still felt too cold against his, which was how Keith knew his fever wasn't entirely gone yet. Unlike his own hands, Lance's were _never_ cold. "Oh my God, you scared me. How do you feel? Is your fever better now?"

Lance's hand swept over his forehead and neck to check for himself even as he spoke.

"Yeah," Keith croaked, then cleared his throat roughly. "Yeah, I'm fine. You can change your own clothes if you want. I'm sorry, sweetheart. I wasn't even thinking about it earlier."

Lance tilted his head in confusion, blinking at him. Then he looked down at his own pajamas and realization dawned.

" _Oh_. That was honestly the last thing on my mind this morning." The sub bit his bottom lip, suddenly looking sad again. Keith's chest clenched tight. He tended to forget, when Lance was having a good few days, how much it actually _hurt_ to see him sad. "I couldn't wake you up. I shook you for, like, two minutes, and you weren't responding."

"I'm sorry," Keith said weakly. He wasn't sure what else he _could_ say. Luckily, Lance only shook his head, waving a hand in dismissal.

"It's not like you got sick on purpose. Adam says it's just the flu. You know - that time of year and stuff. I was probably being really dramatic. It just...freaked me out."

"That's okay," Keith assured. He placed a hand on the back of Lance's head, encouraging him to lay back against his Dom's chest. Lance did so without hesitation. "I would have lost my shit if it was you, believe me. Thank you for taking such good care of me, sweet boy."

Lance shook his head.

"I didn't, though. Adam and Shiro did everything. You passed out, and I just called them and panicked and cried, and then they came home."

Keith inhaled sharply. "You cried?"

The sub blushed. He buried his head further into Keith's chest, hiding the red tint on his mocha face from view.

"Like I said," Lance mumbled faintly. "I might have been a little overdramatic."

"That's not overdramatic," Keith said. "And the thank you still stands."

It was, of course, this moment that Keith's body chose to send him into a raging coughing fit. He twisted away from Lance to lean over the side of the bed, wanting to avoid spreading any more germs to his sub if he could help it.

It was probably a lost cause, considering he was most certainly already contagious the previous night, and they'd done a lot of... _swapping of bodily fluids_ after retiring from the Thanksgiving festivities. But still.

Lance bolted into an upright position, eyes wide. His hands hovered for a moment before landing on Keith's shoulders, bracing him, keeping his still-weak body from tumbling over the side of the bed when the fit finally ended.

"Do you need some water?" Lance asked in alarm. Keith laid back against the pillows, breathing heavily. "I'll go get you some water."

"You don't have to do that, sweetheart, I'm fine," Keith tried to protest - but his body betrayed him. His muscles ached and groaned with the remnant of sharp fever pains when he went to sit up.

Lance pushed him back with a firm hand. Keith hardly had the strength to fight it.

"Keith, seriously," he said, beginning to sound less concerned and more annoyed. He rolled his eyes in that diva-like way Keith pretended to hate but not-so-secretly loved with a burning passion. "Just let me get you a glass of water. It's not a big deal."

It _felt_ like a big deal to Keith. It made him feel awkward and guilty, allowing his sub to take care of him. That wasn't Lance's job. Lance should be pampered and protected and held close. He should not be the one _doing_ the pampering and holding. He shouldn't have to do any of that.

But, then again - Shiro did.

Shiro brought Adam medicine and water when he was sick, took his temperature and helped him take cold baths to bring it down, rubbed his back while he threw up into the toilet bowl at midnight. Shiro did it with ease. Adam accepted it like it was normal and expected.

So maybe that was just Keith, then.

"Okay," he said, hesitantly. "Fine. You can do it, I guess."

Lance shimmied his way off of the bed. Keith heard - and suspected he was _meant_ to hear - the the exasperated _'Doms'_ he uttered under his breath.

"I heard that, brat," Keith called out weakly, though he wore a small smile. His eyelids were already beginning to feel leaden again.

Lance confirmed his suspicions by shouting back, "Oh, I know!" as his footsteps thumped down the staircase.

It was crazy. It was absolutely _insane._

It was so wild to Keith that Lance, who once would have been too afraid to even look at a Dom without explicit permission, even in said Dom's moment of weakness, was now taking charge and doing everything in his power to heal his sick mate.

Lance was unafraid of being in control every now and again, when he once was a stranger to the concept of even being in control of himself.

He was healing.

Keith was asleep again before Lance returned with the water, losing himself in sweet dreams and memories of his sub. His smile, his sparkling eyes, his moans, his teasing words and his fucking _hilarious_ jokes and his shit-eating grins - his everything.

What he'd ever done so right in his life to earn this boy, Keith would never know.

But, by God, he wasn't going to question it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it didn't occur to me until I was rereading it just now that the purpose of this chapter ended up being a lot vaguer than I meant it to be in my outline WHOOPS
> 
> the intention of the chapter is to show that Lance is becoming more like his old self again; just like Keith was thinking at the end there, Lance is no longer afraid of just having normal everyday interactions with Doms. he doesn't shy away from taking care of Keith or get his feelings hurt by being jokingly called a brat. he's just like...being Lance again, y'know?
> 
> i'm gonna CRY OH MY GOD why do I do this to myself


	69. do you see it now? (these walls that they put up to hold us back fell down)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> These things will change, their new charge had told them. Lance was turning out to be right. Adam should have known he would be. He was a smart kid.

"...originally uploaded by the Garrison's very own Proffessor Takashi Shirogane, this video claims that a handful of Dom students from the school..."

His breath caught in his throat. His heart raced, and his hands shook. Adam was up from his chair in an instant, pushing away from his desk, hands fumbling for the remote.

He turned up the volume on the small TV in the corner of his little office. Sure enough, a screenshot of Shiro's face stood still in the corner of the screen. The news anchor was speaking about him.

_About his video._

"So far, we haven't been able to obcure a statement from the Galaxy Garrison in regards to this video. But with a view count in the hundred thousands, there has been an uproar of nationwide support and parental outrage online."

Adam pulled his graviphone from his pocket with shaking hands. His eyes were beginning to burn with tears - tears of joy, of relief, of disbelief, of everything all hitting him at once in one large, crashing wave.

"Two of the students listed in the video, whose names we will not share here on the network, as they are minors, have already been pulled from enrollment at the Galaxy Garrison by parents or guardians. One mother has told us she was 'shocked and heartbroken' to discover her daughter has been a pepetrator of such violence."

_Yes, Sir?_ Shiro asked wearily when he picked up. Adam knew his sub must not have been having a very good day; he only ever used the title _Sir_ outside their bedroom as a form of self-soothing.

"Turn on the local news," Adam told him in a shaky voice, sniffling.

_What? Why? Adam, what's wrong?_

Adam barked out a watery laugh. He heard Shiro's footsteps hurrying down the stairs in the background.

" _Nothing_ is wrong. Absolutely nothing."

It was the exact opposite, in fact. Everything was falling into place.

_These things will change_ , their new charge had told them. Lance was turning out to be right. Adam should have known he would be. He was a smart kid.

The world could put up walls to hold them back, for a short time. But nobody could stop them from tearing those walls down.


	70. you can walk away, say we don't need this

Lance watched Keith watching him out of the corner of his eye as he twisted his fingers together. He knew the nervous habit made his Dom nervous in turn, but he couldn't bring himself to stop the self-soothing fidget.

He pressed himself closer into Keith's side as they trudged from the bright hall into the dimly lit auditorium. An entire sea of other students pressed in on them from all sides. Everyone else chatted and laughed at unbearable volumes. Lance and Keith remained silent.

After Shiro's video caused the man to essentially lose any hope of career at the Garrison and dashed his dreams of space exploration, Lance felt like a last minute call for an all-school assembly couldn't mean anything good. He half-expected Iverson to get on the stage and firmly tell the entire student body to stop making 'false rape accusations.'

Or maybe it had nothing to do with himself or Shiro at all, and he was only letting anxiety get the best of him.

"Stop worrying," Keith murmured low in his ear as the crowd pushed him to stand behind Lance rather than beside him. His hands found Lance's hips, gently guiding him forward to slide down a half-empty row of seats near the back of the room. "Everything's fine. It's probably just about some stupid shit, like - like last year when somebody stole every single pudding cup from the kitchen and clogged all the first floor toilets with pudding as a 'prank.'"

Lance laughed a little at that. Which he assumed was Keith's intention.

"Somebody actually did that?" He asked. Keith's right hand found his left one once they were finally seated, effectively stopping his nervous habit by giving his fingers something more pleasant to do. "You're not joking. Wow."

"Yep. They called an entire damn assembly just so Iverson could wring them out on stage."

"Did they ever find out who it was?"

"Nope. To this day, if you want to piss that man off, all you have to do is mention butterscotch pudding with him in the general vicinity. He will fly off the goddamn handle."

This time, Lance's laugh was louder, more genuine. Mostly because he could absolutely picture Iverson as being the type of man to dive headfirst into a flurry of rage over _pudding._

"Do _you_ know who it was?" Lance asked with a raised eyebrow, because he knew Keith well enough to know that look on his face meant there was more to this story.

Keith's lips twitched. He was facing forward, fighting to keep his little smirk from turning into a full-fledged grin. He said, long and drawn-out, " _Maaaay_ be."

"Um, details, please?"

"Let's just say...somebody wasn't happy about being suspended for punching a guy who totally deserved a good punch."

Lance scoffed, his jaw dropping a little at the same time that his smile grew. Before he could respond, the lights in the auditorium were lowered even further, and the doors boomed shut.

By the time Iverson walked on stage, clearing his throat, microphone in hand, Lance wasn't feeling nearly as anxious anymore. He was too amused and shocked by the fact that he was claimed for life by a guy who _actually_ went and clogged all the toilets on the first floor of the Garrison with _pudding_ as a way of expressing his salt at being suspended.

Keith wore a small, knowing smile. Lance knew in an instant that making him feel better had been the entire purpose of sharing that story. He squeezed his Dom's hand a little tighter.

Iverson, who Lance had always thought of as the type of person who was more than happy being the center of attention, looked awkward and begrudging to be on the stage that morning. That alone should have given some indication as to the purpose of the assembly.

"It's come to my attention that there have been some...injustices...taking place at our school," Iverson began in a clipped tone.

Lance gulped. His heart thudded in his chest. It was a feeling he should have grown used to over the past several months, but he never did. It was just as uncomfortable then as it ever was.

Keith held his hand tightly enough to cut off the circulation, and whispered, "It's fine. Whatever he says, whatever happens, I'm here. Just breathe."

Lance took a breath, deep and shuddering. He closed his eyes as Iverson began to speak again, as if the words would be easier to swallow with his eyes closed.

Keith's hand was still firm and grounding around his. With his Dom holding him to the Earth, Lance knew there was no threat of him floating away.

He held onto Keith like a lifeline and braced himself for metaphorical impact.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes, i really be leaving it there like that
> 
> yes, you have to wait until tomorrow for the next chapter
> 
> yes, i'm evil
> 
> :)


	71. but there's something in your eyes that says we can beat this

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro dared - maybe, possibly, hesitantly - to once again believe that everything was going to be okay.

Shiro felt like he was itching out of his skin, once more sitting in a soft chair on the opposite side of Iverson's desk. He felt like he'd accepted an invitation into the lion's den and was only waiting to be devoured.

The man of the hour himself stood at a small table on the far side wall, peacefully pouring himself another cup of coffee. He glanced up briefly, caught Shiro's eye, and held up the pot in offering. "Coffee, Proffessor?"

"Should you really still be calling me Proffessor?"

Iverson sighed, loud and dramatic. Like Shiro was the one in the wrong here. It made his blood boil, but he gave no acknowledgment. He was starting to think this entire thing was just a huge waste of his time.

"Yes, I should," Iverson said as he settled back in his chair. His tone was kept purposely even and short. "Because I would like to offer you a second chance."

Shiro gulped. His heart leapt into his throat at the same time that he felt a rude bark of laughter crawling up it.

On one hand, he really would like his job back.

But on the other, accepting the offer would feel more like defeat than anything if Iverson was going to be firmly stuck on viewing it as Shiro getting a _second chance._

"You're giving me my job back?" He asked quietly. Iverson shook his head.

"A better job, if you'll accept it." Iverson took a sip of coffee, steadfastly refusing to meet his eyes. "Unfortunately, it's too late now to send you for Kerberos training, seeing as our top fighter pilot instructor has already accepted the position. But..."

".. _.but?_ "

"Well, it's obvious, isn't it?" Iverson snapped. His facade of peace was washed away in an instant. "We're going to need somebody to take that pilot instructor's _place._ It's a full-time position, just like your mate's. Do you want it or not?"

Honestly? Shiro was just _confused._

None of this made any sense. He was almost entirely certain he'd been called in to discuss some matter or another involving one of the boys, potentially even Adam. It never occurred to him that this meeting might be about _him._ Or that Iverson would randomly, out of the blue, begrudgingly offer him a full-time teaching position Shiro had been striving for _years_ to achieve with no luck.

"Where's this coming from?" Shiro asked, certain his absolute bewilderment must be palpable. "A week and a half ago, you fired me for daring to tell the truth about something that was happening at this school. Now you're asking me to come back with a promotion. What's the catch?"

Iverson heaved yet another sigh. Shiro clenched his jaw tight. His eyes tracked Iverson's hands wearily as he placed his coffee cup down and leaned with his arms across the desk and his fingers interlocked in that signature pose of his.

"I have been...shown the error of my ways," he said gruffly. "As it turns out, many parents of sub students, and citizens at large, believe the gathered evidence should be more than enough to have the eight kids you listed banned from campus for life. And the parents of the alleged perpetrators are angry that they weren't informed of their childrens' crimes sooner. I've found myself - at a crossroads, of sorts."

Shiro scoffed. "You mean, you're realizing this scandal actually might have the power to unseat you as Headmaster, and you're scared, so you're covering all your bases."

Fury flashed in Iverson's eyes, but he kept it muted enough. They both knew that was a throwback to the man's words from the last time they'd sat in his office like this; _it's not exactly scandal material,_ he'd said in unbelieving amusement.

The Headmaster certainly wasn't amused anymore.

"I will admit that I might have been too quick to dismiss your concerns," Iverson said slowly. He sounded as though he was fighting to keep himself under control. But there was a hint of some other emotion there - guilt, Shiro hoped, so that he could say maybe this man wasn't a lost cause, after all. "They...do have some solid grounding. But yes. The backlash against the school is building up very quickly. We need to address the issue if we'd like to keep our reputation intact."

What Shiro wanted to say was, _do you even deserve to keep your reputation, though? Should you be known as one of the best schools in the country? Are you really?_

What Shiro _actually_ said was, "If you're serious about looking into Lance's case, and finding justice in the form of expulsion and preventive measures - then I would like to accept your offer."

It was bittersweet. A defeat, almost, conceding to this man's twisted reasons for reaching out - but also a win. Because he couldn't help Lance and the other sub students of this school, couldn't keep an eye out for them and continue to fight for their rights, from a distance. Protecting these young men and women could only be done from the inside.

He could easily do so, in a position as a full-time fighter pilot instructor.

Adam's voice echoed in his head, the words that had firmly convinced Shiro to remain employed at the Garrison at the start of all this. _How can anything ever change if everyone capable of changing it leaves?_

Adam was right. This school needed him, needed somebody who actually _cared_ what became of kids like Lance. Somebody who rightfully called Lance's attackers _rapists_ instead of children, because they forfeited their right to be viewed as anything but criminal adults the moment they made the decision to lay their hands on an unconsenting person.

He didn't want to be known as somebody who worked in this school. Didn't want his name to be attached to this wretched, apathetic place.

But if he didn't return, it might never _stop_ being a wretched, apathetic place. And, besides, he would be damned if he sat back and watched another young sub like Lance suffer in silence, with nobody there who cared, no adult around who was willing to stand up and fight for them.

So Shiro accepted. His entire being was a confused mess of emotional turmoil all the while - but he accepted, nonetheless.

Iverson gave him a single, firm nod. The man deflated in relief, tension Shiro hadn't even realized his once-again-boss had been holding trickling out of his shoulders. It was awfully ego-stoking, he had to admit, to see that the Headmaster was actually rather desperate to have him back.

"I'm glad you're back with us, Professor Shirogane," Iverson said, professional mask firmly back in place. He rose to his feet and offered a hand to shake. Shiro stood, too, and took the offered gesture, even though touching the man put a sick feeling in his stomach. "You'll start in your new position on Monday. The eight children you mentioned in your video have already been expelled and escorted off Garrison grounds. We'll be holding an all-school assembly next period to announce our new zero-tolerance policy for sexual harassment and assault. I hope to see you there, Professor."

"Rapists."

"Pardon?"

"The eight _rapists_ I mentioned in my video," Shiro said calmly, without any form of anger or judgement. He stated it as a simple fact, because that was exactly what it was. "Don't call them children. They aren't children. Call them rapists."

Iverson's jaw twitched. Still, he nodded. "The eight...perpetrators, then."

Close enough.

Shiro dared - _maybe_ , possibly, hesitantly - to once again believe that everything was going to be okay.


	72. cause these things will change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith's face broke out into a full-fledged grin, then. Lance only got to see it for a split second before he was being pulled into a tight embrace, Keith's hand on the back of his head, pressing his face into the shorter boy's shoulder.

Lance's ears were ringing.

Blood was pounding behind them, too, leaving his face feeling flushed and every sound around him muffled.

He was used to this feeling. But he wasn't used to this _context._

For once, this sensation was not a precursor to a panic attack, or a crying jag, or anything of the sort. It was the result of...whatever that feeling was, coursing through his veins with a frightening intensity. Lance knew it was probably a good emotion. He was just a little too numb to feel it in that moment.

"Lance?" Keith was saying, shaking his shoulder gently. The noise and the sight of his Dom slowly came back into focus. Lance blinked. Keith was looking at him with the remnants of surprise and joy on his face, though they were fading under a newer wave of concern. "Are you okay? Do you feel like you're gonna panic?"

"No," Lance shook his head. "No, I just...did I _hear_ that right? Is he...are they seriously...?"

Keith's face broke out into a full-fledged grin, then. Lance only got to see it for a split second before he was being pulled into a tight embrace, Keith's hand on the back of his head, pressing his face into the shorter boy's shoulder.

The crowds of students slowly trickled out the door around them, gradually leaving them alone in the large auditorium.

"He did," Keith said into his hair, pressing a kiss to the crown of his head. "They _are_. They're gone, Lance, all of them. They can't hurt you anymore."

Lance felt guilty for still having somewhat mixed feelings on the revelation.

He should be grateful. Iverson had finally realized the importance of getting known rapists out of his school, and his new Dom and in-laws likely had a huge part in making that happen. He shouldn't feel upset that they were gone.

And he _wasn't._ Lance wasn't upset that they were out of the Garrison, not in the slightest.

But there was a slight, burning shame and guilt in his throat that felt a lot like stomach acid threatening to make an appearance.

Because being banned from the Galaxy Garrison didn't mean those eight Doms could never hurt anybody again. It just meant they couldn't hurt anybody _here._ With no legal action binding them in any way, they were free to roam the rest of the Earth as they pleased.

Lance felt safe. But he couldn't help but feel like he'd just done a terrible thing. Instead of containing a handful of monsters within the confines of the school and only making himself unsafe, he'd unleashed them onto the rest of the universe.

And now they could hurt _anybody._

He shared as much with Keith, mumbling the words into his Dom's shoulder while Keith rubbed his back and listened quietly.

"You didn't do anything wrong, Lance," Keith told him in a pained whisper once Lance had finished spilling the fresh emotions boiling over from his mind. "None of this was ever your fault. Don't you understand that? Anything they do in the future won't be, either. They're going to hurt somebody, somewhere, wherever they go. And it's _not_ your responsibility to let people hurt you just because you feel like there's a chance it'll keep somebody else safe."

Lance nodded slowly, giving the words a moment to sink in. His eyes were dry and his face was, he felt, relatively blank. There was still an overlying sense of numb disbelief blanketing every other emotion.

Keith was probably right. Somewhere, buried in the back of his own head, Lance already knew he had no reason to feel guilty, but old habits died hard.

Hearing Keith confirm what he'd already been subconciously thinking was soothing. It made it a little easier to trust and believe in his own innocence.

_I didn't do anything. I didn't deserve any of this. It was their fault, not mine. I'm innocent. I'm okay. I'm going to be okay._

Sometimes, Lance thought Dr. Heigel's "reassuring thoughts" mental exercise was absolute bull. Then there were times like this, when he regarded it as an idea blessed by heaven itself. It was easier to let go of the last tendrils of anxiety curling around his chest with those thoughts playing on loop in the background.

"You're right," he told Keith after a long moment.

"Of course I am. When am I not?"

Lance scoffed, pulling away from Keith's shoulder and rolling his eyes. "Do you _have_ to be so obnoxious?"

"I've told you, like, five times now, you're -"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm way too mature for you. Blah, blah, blah."

Keith smiled a little. His eyes sparkled as he reached out gentle fingers to sweep a stray strand of hair back from his sub's forehead. Lance smiled back.

"Hey," Keith murmured, reaching to hold both of Lance's hands in his. "Let's go find Shiro and Adam, hm? I wonder if they know yet."

"Oooh, oooh! I wanna tell them! Dibs! No take-backs!"

"...I retract all the maturity comments."

"You can't! I _just_ said no take-backs, Keith!"

"Jesus _Christ_ , Lance -"


	73. deep in his eyes, i think i see the future (shut up and dance with me)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Because now Keith understood that one little word with an unbelievable clarity. It felt like putting on glasses after years of believing he had twenty-twenty vision, only to discover that the world was not the place he once thought it was.
> 
> Love.
> 
> It was so obvious, now that Lance was here, what love really was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHH OH MY GOD. this is the longest chapter. almost 4k words. I severely underestimated how many words it would take me to express all this.
> 
> it's literally just 4k of fluff, really minor actual smut but a L O T of talk about sex, keith's internal monologue which brought tears to my eyes writing it...it's literally just 4k of the sweetest shit. if literature was food this would be cotton candy
> 
> PLEASE ENJOY IT AND LEMME KNOW UR THOUGHTS BC I ENJOYED WRITING IT SO MUCH

Honestly? Keith didn't want to go.

This was so _stupid._

He knew his sub was in a fantastic mood. Lance had every right to be happy, and Keith was more than pleased to see him smiling and joking so much, he really was. He'd been hyperactively bouncing off the walls at home, and immediately fawning over any Christmas decoration he saw absolutely anywhere, in a way that made Keith feel like they should be asking that Penelope doctor lady if she was qualified to complete an ADHD assessment.

Lance teasing him, sticking out his tongue, blowing raspberries, and pulling stupid little pranks on him was a goddamn winter _miracle._

It was the most joyous thing he'd ever seen, Lance being his rambunctious, goofy self for the whole world to marvel at, rather than reserving his true personality for Keith alone, now that he had no reason to fear drawing attention.

Lance grinning from beneath the edge of a scarf, stuffing his hands into Keith's pockets and nuzzling into his chest with a murmur of _hm, yay, warm_ made him feel like his entire body could vibrate at a glass-shattering frequency. So much so that he decided to completely disregard the fact that it was only just below fifty degrees outside and, in his own opinion, nowhere near cold enough for Lance's adorable little scarves and gloves.

It was nice.

It probably deserved some better words than that, but words weren't Keith's thing.

It was - beautiful. _He_ was beautiful. Absolutely everything about him.

Even the moment just a few days before, when Lance had copped a genuine, non-playful attitude with him for the first time, crossed arms and pouted mouth and all, Keith had to hide a smile at the pure _wit_ of his sub. He fought to keep his expression firm and disapproving as he scolded his mate for his disrespect, dishing out a mild punishment of asking Shiro and Adam what chores they needed done around the house and offering to do them.

Even when Lance was being a little too annoying, or breaking a rule, or being disrespectful, he was _perfect._ He was flawed, and Keith knew he was, because every human being was.

But it was like...like those flaws didn't even register as a blip on his screen. There was never a dip in his love for Lance McClain. Not for a _second_. Ever.

And Keith supposed that was the way love was meant to be. The realization gave him whiplash now, after years of being made to believe he had to earn the love of people who never gave him that promised affection in the end, anyway.

It suddenly made so much more sense, how Adam and Shiro had put up with his little runaway attempts for so long.

It wasn't that they weren't angry at him for constantly making breaks for it, or that they were okay with him treating them unjustly. They did feel angry when he ran, and they weren't okay with him lashing out at them.

They just didn't let their anger or their disapproval tarnish their love.

They _loved_ Keith, unconditionally. Blood or not, he was their son. No strings attached. It made his chest ache horribly the moment he realized it had taken a majority of his teen years, and a couple of months into the start of his adult life, for him to figure out as much.

He wished he would have gotten it through his thick skull sooner.

They loved him, not because he was perfect and never did anything wrong, but because he was _theirs._ They stood by his side with relentless patience and devotion, because that's what you do when you love somebody - you forgive them their minor offenses, over and over again, even though it would be easier to just give up on them.

It was the same way he loved Lance.

It was the same way, he was beginning to realize, that _Lance_ loved _him._ Not because he was the perfect Dom. Not because he was always going to do the right thing in their relationship. Not because he was never going to make mistakes.

Just because he was Keith Kogane, and for Lance, that was enough.

He only had one semester and one summer left living in his parents' home, now, to show them that he loved them with an equal fervor before he and Lance went off to college. Less than a year. It couldn't possibly be enough time to repay them for the many years of unwavering care and affection they'd lavished upon him.

But he had an entire lifetime to prove his devotion to Lance McClain. And _that_  part, Keith was very much looking forward to.

It was hard to believe these revelations had all been churned from his own brain over the course of a single week. And yet, there they were.

They were conclusions made during passionate lovemaking and quiet midnight snuggles with his sub. In baking christmas treats with Shiro, his father smiling and ruffling his hair and telling him _I'm really proud of you, kiddo, you know that?_ In leaning sleepily on Adam's shoulder on the couch after a long Saturday of ice skating at Lance's insistence, the older Dom's arm wrapped protectively around him as he dozed off, like he would kill anyone who even thought of touching a hair on his child's head.

For all these years, Keith had used the word _love_ in his everyday vocabulary.

His fathers uttered the sentiment with such care, pressing the words into his beating heart with the intention of having them etched there forever, fiercely willing him to believe them.

His return echoes of _love you, too_ fell so flat in comparison. They were flippant. As if he was only saying it because he thought he was expected to (that was _exactly_ why he was saying it, actually.) The bittersweet, longing smiles they always offered when he tossed the words carelessly back at them made sense now.

Because now Keith understood that one little word with an unbelievable clarity. It felt like putting on glasses after years of believing he had twenty-twenty vision, only to discover that the world was not the place he once thought it was.

_Love._

It was so obvious, now that Lance was here, what love really was. Keith liked the true definition a hell of a lot more than his own misguided concept.

Believe it or not, these revelations all related back to Keith's original point.

Keith _loved_ Lance. He really did. So much that it physically hurt sometimes.

But he still _did not_ want to go to some dumbass, half-baked attempt at a school Winter Dance, or whatever shit they were calling it, put on by the Galaxy Garrison. No amount of cute pouting and purposely annoying begging could make him _want_ to wear a rented tux and attempt to dance in a room full of sweaty, horny, idiotic teenagers.

It was _so stupid._

It was probably Iverson's idea. Iverson, who had never fucked around with such ridiculous traditions before, who Keith was entirely certain only wanted to put on a face of "hey look, we care about our students, we're letting them dress up and dance" in light of all the bad press.

Let the record show that Keith was entirely against the idea. One hundred percent, utterly uninterested.

_However._

Lance wanted to go. Was absolutely dying to go, in fact.

Lance had every right to be happy. He had every right to want to celebrate. He was finally free to enjoy his life, and what was left of his high school career, without holding back.

Who was Keith to keep him from having fun?

So when Lance came practically skipping up to him in the halls between classes one day, bouncing on his toes as he shoved a flyer reading _Winter Dance_ in his Dom's face and asking, "Please? Keith, _please_ , can we go? I swear, I'll be _so_ well-behaved all Christmas break - I won't break any rules, and I'll -"

"Okay," Keith cut him off, a hint of a real smile on his face despite the dread bubbling in his gut. "Yeah, we can go."

Lance's eyes went wide. His very soul lit up like a Christmas tree. He let loose a small squeal, throwing himself at Keith, arms wrapped tight around his shoulders, in an embrace that almost knocked them both straight to the ground.

"Oh, my God! We have to get you a tux! And _me_ a tux! My tux is still back home! We should match! Winter colors! Not powder blue, though, powder blue suits are ugly. Can I -"

Keith pulled Lance's face toward his, unable to resist anymore. The joy on his face made him look so intensely kissable that holding back was unbearable. He pressed his tongue into the sub's mouth, heart racing as Lance melted against him like a snowflake, releasing a sigh of content into the kiss.

Sometimes _love_ meant doing stupid shit you didn't want to do, just because it made your sub happy.

Keith supposed he couldn't complain. He was the one who went and signed up to give his entire life away to this beautiful boy.

(Not that he regretted it for a second.)

(He never would.)

* * *

"Aww!" Lance gushed as Keith came out of the fitting room, face fixed with the most piercing glare he could muster. "Babe, you look so _cute!_ "

"Wha - I - " Keith sputtered, face burning. "No, I don't! I look manly. Masculine. I'm not cute!"

Shiro watched in silence with a shit-eating grin, never stepping in to save his own child from this public humiliation, the fucker.

Lance closed the distance between them and leaned innocently enough against Keith's chest. Slim fingers held the collar of the tux jacket, pulling him close, and Lance's mouth was right up against his ear, a gust of hot breath on Keith's neck sending chills down his spine.

"I'm cute, right?" Lance breathed, nowhere near loud enough for Shiro to hear.

Keith whispered back, blinking in confusion. Where was this going? "Um, _obviously._ "

"Mmm..." Teeth nipped at his earlobe. Keith thanked his lucky fucking stars Shiro seemed to have garnered a sense of what direction this was taking, walking several yards away to give them a moment of privacy under the pretense of browsing through suits.

" _What_ , Lance?" Keith hissed. "Don't get me hard in a fucking tux I don't even own, you little tease."

"Oh, no, I was just thinking - _I'm_ cute, but I'm still masculine, right? Manly."

Keith gulped. He saw exactly where Lance's train of thought was rolling. He wondered if his face had reached fire-engine red yet, or if it was still lingering on a shade of tomato.

"God. Yes, Lance, okay, I look cute. There, are you -"

"Oh, babe, let me finish!"

"Fucking _hell._ "

" _Shhh_. You thought I was awfully manly last night, telling me how big my cock was...chaining me down to the bed, riding me, taking control of me and using my body...you seemed pretty _adamant_ of my masculinity."

"I'm sorry. Is that what you want to hear?" Keith growled beneath his breath, with no true anger. "I'm sorry I indirectly undermined your masculinity. You have a huge dick and I liked riding it and I'm sure as fuck gonna do it again. There. You're super manly and you're also really fucking adorable. Can you  _stop_ now?"

"Sorry, what was that? I couldn't hear you. You're speaking so quietly."

"God, you _brat_ , we're in _public_ -"

"I seem to remember your exact words were, _God, Lance, feels so good_ , and, like - something along the lines of _oh, insert-swear-I'm-not-allowed-to-say-here, yeah_ -"

Lance had, it seemed, defied his order to _not_ get Keith hard while he wore a tux that he not only didn't own but hadn't even rented yet. At least Lance was equally as aroused, the evidence pressed firm against Keith's hip through the sub's jeans.

He thought, a bit smugly, that Lance probably hadn't thought this through very well. Keith could escape to the fitting room the second Lance released him and think about roadkill and sick puppies until he was calm. Lance had to go back and sit beside Shiro while he waited for Keith to try on the next suit, and unlike Keith, he had no escape or excuse. _Oopsies, sweetheart._

"I remember this _very_ well, Lance, I don't need a recap." Keith gritted his teeth and took a steadying breath. "It's not like you _fucked_ me, you weren't even allowed to move your hips. I had you _tied down_. I fucked myself, thanks."

Lance snorted quietly in laughter. "I don't think that sounded exactly how you wanted it to sound. Not the point, though. Point is, I'm manly _and_ cute, and so are you."

"You had to go through all that shit in the middle of a goddamn tux rental shop just to make me admit that I'm capable of being cute and you're a manly-macho-man? Fucking seriously, Lance?"

"Uh, no. I had to go through all that so that when we get home, you'll push me against a wall and fu- screw me until I scream."

Shiro had to choose _this_ exact moment to hesitantly step back in their general vicinity, looking equal parts awkward and amused. Keith prayed their hushed conversation hadn't been audible over the white background noise of the employees and other customers. "Uh, boys - we should really hurry this up. We've been in the fitting rooms for a while. I think the manager is getting suspicious that we're trying to shoplift."

Lance pulled back from Keith. And after _all_ that, the little shit had the audacity to press a sweet, innocent kiss to his Dom's cheek, chirping a cheerful _love you!_ before telling Shiro he had to use the bathroom and walking away from the other two in a calm, natural stride.

Shiro raised an eyebrow at him once Lance was gone, entirely unimpressed. "Keith. Buddy. Really? I know you're teenagers and newly-mateds and all that, but this is not the time."

"He's the one who -!" Keith sputtered. Shiro's face did not waver.

He released a frustrated growl that was more a result of sexual tension than anger, scurrying back into the fitting room. His face was absolutely fire-engine red by that point, the mirror promised.

He pulled his phone out and shot a quick text to his sub. _don't u dare touch urself._

Keith was halfway into his next suit, thinking furiously of the grossest things imaginable, when his phone beeped with a reply.

_or what baby? ur gonna spank me? oh no, i totally HATE being spanked, what EVER shall i do._

Keith recalled thinking several times, on the rare occassion before Lance came along that he actually thought about romance, how much he _loved_ bratty subs who rebelled because they _wanted_ to be punished.

The type of sub he thirsted after was, as it turned out, exactly the kind of sub he got. _Wow._ He was really eating his own fucking words now, wasn't he?

_lance. ru touching urself? srsly?_

_no, ofc not srsly. just tryna kill the boner. i done played myself. spank me anyway tho?_

_rather fuck you raw._

_both? :)_

_both sounds fuckin fantastic._

_:) <3 _

* * *

Keith lay with his hand over Lance's chest hours later, feeling the steady heartbeat thrumming beneath his palm, all tensions and passions from earlier in the day blissfully taken care of.

Lance stirred, awakening slowly from the depths of subspace, and hummed as he nuzzled against Keith's neck.

"I love you," Keith whispered. And he felt, for the first time in his life, like he actually _knew_ what he was saying. "I'd die for you. I'm serious. I really would. I love you _so_ fucking much."

Lance blinked up at him, eyes still somewhat hazy but mostly aware.

"I love you, too," Lance whispered in return, smiling as his hand came up to gently cradle one side of his Dom's jaw. "You're so good to me. I'm so lucky."

"Pretty sure I'm the lucky one here." He pressed a litany of open-mouthed kisses to various parts of his sub's naked body, practically worshipping the soft mocha skin; a silent promise of devotion. "I don't deserve you at all. I can't believe I get to keep you forever. That's... _really_ fucking cool."

Lance giggled. "Cool? That's the best word you can think of?"

Lance's laugh fell away, transforming into a sharp gasp that was followed by breathy panting, when Keith's hand dove beneath the covers, grasping the sub's softened cock firmly. Lance whimpered and bit down on his bottom lip, gently rolling his hips into Keith's hand. After thirty minutes in subspace, his young libido was more than ready to roar back to life. He almost immediately began to grow hard in Keith's grip.

"Yeah," Keith said with a smirk. "I think this is pretty _cool_. Don't you think this is _cool_ , Lance? I think sex can be _cool_."

Lance looked at him through half-lidded eyes. "W-well played, K-Kogane. Oh, _yes_ , Sir - _a-ah!_ "

Well played, indeed.

* * *

Thirty minutes into the Winter Dance, Keith completely and utterly changed his tune.

He _really_ loved a good goddamn school dance.

* * *

As it turned out, local students were more than welcome to invite non-Garrison dates. Plus-ones, if you will.

Which meant there ended up being a good handful of Doms neither Keith nor Lance had ever met before. Which meant none of them knew of Lance's former reputation. Which meant that if this absolutely stunning sub whose collar was unintentionally hidden beneath his tux began to flirt with them, they would not take it as an automatic invitation for sex, but rather blush and stutter and thank whatever deity they believed in for this miracle. Paying no mind, apparently, to the consequential outrage of their sub dates.

So flirt, Lance did. _God_ , did he flirt.

Not seriously, of course, and Keith knew that. He could tell by the overdramatized, intentional way Lance moved and spoke when he "accidentally" brushed by a pretty Dom near the refreshments table, causing her eyes to grow wide and her face to redden.

He could _especially_ tell Lance was up to another one of his little antics by the way he glanced very purposely over his shoulder at Keith each and every time he flirted. He batted his eyelashes innocently, but was sure to make eye contact. He wanted Keith to _know._

Lance knew that this behavior would cause an inferno of jealousy to flare up inside his Dom. Keith _knew_ Lance knew. Just like the fitting room fiasco a couple of days before, it was a game.

A game that ended up with Keith growling beneath his breath and pulling Lance out of the gymnasium, holding the sub's wrist in a bruising grip.

A game that led Keith to shove Lance roughly against the wall in a custodial closet, yanking those long legs to wrap firmly around his waist, grinding their crotches together impatiently without any need for the much too formal precursor of words.

" _Keith_ ," Lance whimpered, head falling back into the wall. He yelped, then moaned loudly, when Keith landed a smack to one side of his ass. Not hard enough to genuinely hurt, and accidentally trigger the chemical reaction in his sub's brain that would register it as a punishment. But just hard enough to leave a lasting sting. A sting Keith knew from experience would shoot right to Lance's groin.

"What do you call me?" He snarled, biting sharply at the skin of Lance's neck, earning another loud cry of pleasure that was almost completely drowned out by the thumping bass of the music next door. "What's my name?"

"Sir," Lance groaned, rutting desperately against him. "Yes, _Sir_ , oh, God. Please, please."

"Please what, sweet boy? Use your words."

" _Oh_ , yes, _te amo_ , Sir, _por favor follame_. Please let me cum, Sir."

Keith chose to show mercy on the fact that Lance had _technically_ just sworn, in Spanish. It was a loophole, in a way.

"Wanna cum in your handsome tux? I don't think so, babe. Gonna have to wait until we get home, isn't it?"

Lance gaped at him, expression indignant. " _Sir_ -"

"Are you arguing with me?"

"...no, Sir, no. Just - please. Really need to cum."

"Too bad. I have no way to clean you up afterwards, and you're not going to ruin a rented tux. Plus, you can't exactly be in subspace for thirty minutes in a custodial closet."

Lance only continued to gape.

Keith smirked a little, pressing a sweet kiss to his hot-fleshed neck. "Guess you should have thought about that before you started up with your little game, huh?"

"...I done _played_ myself. Really. Wow."

Keith laughed a genuine, loud laugh, then, heart humming in joy when Lance returned it with a playful smile.

"You did," he murmured, kissing his way softly down the side of Lance's neck to his shoulder, sucking a hickey over the protruding collarbone. All desires to fuck were rapidly replaced with a burning need to _make love._ They still couldn't, though, unfortunately. "You're adorable, you know that? Like, seriously. You're _so_ fucking cute, I actually can't stand it."

Lance blushed, moaning lightly again as Keith sucked the soft skin of his throat between his teeth.

"I don't know how to answer that," the sub said honestly. "I'm not _that_ cute."

"You are, though. You're fucking _precious_." Lance opened his mouth to retort. Keith beat him to it. "And yes, you're very _manly_ too, don't start that shit again."

Lance's giggle returned. An absolutely angelic sound. No noise in the world could possibly top it.

Keith felt actual tears pricking at his eyes as he choked out, "God, I love you so much."

"I love you, too, Keith. _Te amo_. More than anything."

They did stay in the custodial closet for a long while, but as Keith promised, there were no hands down pants, or grinding, or anything of the sort.

There were, instead, sweet professions of love and passionate, sloppy kisses. Still a turn-on, of course - but something deeper, too. Something more than just the physical.

An infinite reality expanding into eternity, all compacted into one moment that would never make a blip on the history of the world. That's what Keith decided it was, kissing Lance, holding him close, promising to love him forever. Infinite. Insignificant to anyone else, but infinite to them.

Or, rather, it _was_ infinite, until Lance moved his head at just the wrong angle, knocking an overhead shelf of cleaning supplies and dry rags onto the two of them.

It was finite, then, dragging them out of their little world where only the two of them existed. But still lovely all the same.

Lance laughed hysterically, pressing his face into Keith's shoulder as he nudged a bottle of bathroom cleaner off from where it had landed on his thigh. Keith held him close, trying to keep his own mirth minimal so he could enjoy hearing Lance's instead. He savored the sound like a fine wine.

_Yes_ , he decided that night, his opinion unshakable.

This was what love actually felt like.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "To the infinite, all finites are equal." - Mark Batterson


	74. hold on tight a little longer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance wouldn't run off like that on his own, Keith knew. He knew. His mate got distracted sometimes, trailed a few yards behind, but he never just walked away. Lance wouldn't hear Keith calling for him and not come running.
> 
> This realization was what incited the Dom's absolute terror.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY. so. originally I planned to go back to the 2 chapters a day updates after Christmas since it's technically going to be weekdays. but i'm on Christmas break rn anyway, so i'm home and available to post midday updates too so like...why not 4 a day?
> 
> originally the final chapter was gonna be posted on new year's eve but the update schedule for the rest of this story is now as follows:
> 
> 23rd (today): chapters 74, 75, 76  
> 24th (tomorrow): chapters 77, 78, 79  
> 25th (special christmas chapter!): 80  
> 26th: chapters 81, 82, 83, 84  
> 27th: chapters 85, 86, 87, 88  
> 28th: chapters 89, 90, 91, 92  
> 29th: chapter 93 (finale!)
> 
> this will give me more time to finish outlining the sequel and get started on writing it before I have to go back to work on jan. 2nd!
> 
> ANYWAYS. uh...things get...heavy...in this chapter...and not in a good way.
> 
> y'all been knew i couldn't go TOO long without some angst. you know i had to do it to em.

It happened in an instant.

"What do you think Adam wants for - Lance? _Lance!_ "

Keith cut himself off abruptly, turning in circles, desperately searching the crowd for his sub. His sub, who had been trailing behind him, rambling about how beautiful all the homemade goods were, just a moment ago. His sub, who was now nowhere to be found.

His sub, who did not answer his calls or come running obediently back to Keith's side this time like he usually did.

Lance wouldn't run off like that on his own, Keith knew. He _knew_. His mate got distracted sometimes, trailed a few yards behind, but he never just walked away. Lance wouldn't hear Keith calling for him and _not_ come running.

This realization was what incited the Dom's absolute terror.

There was no warning for the shock and panic that struck him square in the chest, stealing his breath away, causing his vision to go blurry around the edges.

_Don't leave my side,_ he'd told his sub. _Human trafficking crime rates pick up a lot at this time of year. It's a busy place. Anybody could take you. Don't leave my side, don't leave my side, don't leave my side._

It was listed in Lance's rules for him to not go anywhere without Keith's permission for a good goddamn reason. It wasn't _safe_. He was vulnerable, more vulnerable than most subs, still working on building up his defenses and his resolve to fight back and say _no_. Which was why Keith always told him to _not leave his fucking side._

Funny how the thing he'd told Lance _not_ to do was the one thing Lance ended up doing.

Or maybe Lance hadn't left his side at all. Maybe it was Keith's fault for letting go of his hand in the first place. An imagination Keith had never possessed came suddenly roaring to life.

He imagined somebody grabbing Lance from behind while Keith was obliviously distracted by the sights and sound of this outdoor holiday vendors' market. He imagined a hand over Lance's mouth, keeping him quiet. Perhaps a weapon pressed subtly and threateningly against his side through his abductor's coat. He imagined Lance, crying, quietly begging to be let go, to not be hurt, begging for _Keith._

Keith was practically hyperventilating. He retraced his steps, ignoring the mutterings of " _excuse_ you" as he shoved rudely through the crowds. That tall, dark head of hair, that blindingly beautiful smile - nowhere. Nada. Nothing. His eyes scanned up and down the street even as he rushed through the seas of people in his panic.

A sliver of logic and reason told him he should call his sub's phone. Keith did, dialing the most recent contact with shaking fingers.

It went straight to voicemail.

Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, _God._

This couldn't be happening to him. This could _not_ be happening.

This was just a bad dream. He was going to wake up, curled beneath the covers with Lance in the morning winter chill, gasping for breath after his horrible, awful nightmare. Lance was going to wake up and hold him close and assure him _I'm safe, it was just a bad dream, shhh, babe, just breathe_.

That didn't happen, though, because it wasn't a dream. It was all too real.

Keith recalled telling Lance, on more than one occassion, that he would quite literally kill himself if he ever lost him. And, of course, the emotions behind that statement had always been true.

But it was just now occurring to him, as blood roared behind his ears and he began to feel dizzy as a result of the hyperventilation and lack of oxygen, how fucking much he actually _meant_ it. He would never be able to forgive himself, never be able to find any sort of peace, if he let anything happen to this wonderful blessing of a person. He wouldn't live without Lance. He couldn't.

And, _thank fucking God_ , he would not have to.

Because after a good five minutes of stumbling through the crowds on jelly legs, feeling so panicked there were actual tears beginning to form in his eyes, begging vendors and customers alike to wrack their memories, _have you seen him he's kind of tall dark skin dark hair blue eyes red scarf_ \- he found Lance.

He found Lance whole. In one piece. Smiling at a vendor who he was undoubtedly telling jokes to, judging by the older woman's loud laughter, as he carefully turned one of her homemade candles over in his hands.

Looking like nothing was wrong. Looking like he hadn't just created what Keith was certain had to be the worst memory of his _entire_ life thus far. Worse than being beaten black and blue, worse than losing his father - the mere implication that he might have lost Lance was _worse_.

He threw himself at the sub, earning a gasp of shock. Keith's arms were tight around him, and he heard Lance cough a little as the wind was knocked out of him. The candle clattered back onto the table, but Keith paid no mind to it nor the vendor nor fucking _anything_ else.

Lance was in his arms. Lance was worriedly asking him if he was okay, slim hands rubbing soothingly over the Dom's back, the skin of his face warm and soft and entirely unharmed where it pressed against Keith's own cheek.

Lance was _safe._

The relief came first, an absolute flood of it. Keith had to fight the overwhelming urge to sink to his knees with Lance still bundled against him and _sob_. Instead, he kept his bruising grip wrapped tight around the other teenager, sniffling slightly as several loose tears fell onto Lance's stupid, adorable Christmas scarf.

"Keith," Lance whispered in his ear, confused and concerned. "Keith, shhh...babe, why are you crying? What's wrong? _Shhh._ "

"Oh my God," Keith gasped into his shoulder, choking on a strangled, half-sob. "Oh my fucking _God_. Oh my God, you're okay. You're _okay_."

"Of course I'm okay. Keith, honey, _shhh_. Of course I am. Are _you_ okay? Keith, please. You're scaring me."

And _that_.

That was what did it.

_You're scaring me._

That was what sent the relief all flooding out of his body.

_You're scaring me._

What set a magma-hot sea of fiery _rage_ coursing through Keith's veins.

It made him reluctantly loosen his tight grip on the sub. Because if he didn't, Keith was certain he would end up actually leaving some accidental bruises on Lance's back and ribcage.

He pulled back from Lance. His hands found the sub's wrists and held them, forcing him to stand still and look.

He seethed out from between clenched teeth, " _I'm_ scaring _you?_ "

The color drained from Lance's face, and his eyes grew wide. He gulped. Keith knew his own fury was almost physically palpable. He couldn't help it. He was absolutely, unabashedly _pissed._

"Keith?" Lance whispered, softly, hesitantly. "What's...?"

" _Don't_ fucking tell me that I scared _you_ ," Keith snarled. "I thought you'd been fucking _kidnapped_ or something, Lance! I thought you were being raped in an alley! I told you not to leave my side! I've been having a fucking panic attack just trying to find you! _Where the fuck were you?_ "

Realization, horror, and an extreme guilt dawned on Lance's face, all about seven minutes too late. "Oh, God. Oh, Keith, baby...I'm _so_ sorry. I didn't even think -"

"Don't call me that."

"W-what?"

"You may not call me by name right now."

"But I -"

"Lance, I swear to God. Don't, okay? Just... _don't_."

"...yes, Sir."

Keith turned, one hand still wrapped white-knuckled around his sub's wrist, and pulled Lance along with him as he marched away from a very puzzled-looking vendor.

"Get in the car. We're going home."


	75. what don't kill you makes you stronger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance knew he would be punished. He knew his Dom wouldn't leave him to anguish in this feeling any longer than necessary.
> 
> He also knew that Keith would never lay a hand on him with the intention of harm, no matter how angry he got.
> 
> His PTSD did not seem to know that as well as he did.

The drive home was silent.

His Dom held the steering wheel in a white-knuckled grip, silently seething. He was angrier than the time he'd nearly torn the head off of that Dom in the library. Angrier than Lance had ever seen or ever _wanted_ to see his mate.

Keith didn't say a word, but he didn't have to. The things he was thinking and feeling did not need words to be brought to life. It all radiated off of him in waves.

Lance himself sat hunched over in the passenger seat, arms wrapped tight around his middle. It hadn't taken long for the tears to start streaming down his face. His soft, cut-off sobs were the only sound besides the hum of the engine and tires beneath them. His entire body was shaking in a way that had nothing to do with the weather.

He hadn't meant to. He really hadn't. Lance wasn't even thinking about how badly it would terrify Keith to turn around and find him gone, nor about the fact that he'd forgotten his phone at home. He wasn't thinking about Keith at all, actually, only stopping to browse a vendor's products out of pure curiousity. He wasn't thinking about the fact that he was breaking one of his most important rules.

And Lance supposed that was the entire problem. He wasn't _thinking_.

This wasn't the first time Lance had felt the horrible guilt that directly resulted from disobeying his Dom. But it was the first time he'd ever felt it with such intensity.

He hadn't even known it was possible to feel an emotion so strongly. It was unbearable, overwhelming his mind and all of his senses until the only thing he could think was _sorry, sorry, sorry, please make it stop, please punish me, please make it go away I can't take it make it stop._

He knew Keith would.

Lance knew he would be punished. He knew his Dom wouldn't leave him to anguish in this feeling any longer than necessary.

He also knew that Keith would _never_ lay a hand on him with the intention of harm, no matter how angry he got.

His PTSD did not seem to know that as well as he did.

Lance hoped Keith would punish him quickly once they got home rather than dragging it out. He hoped he would be able to shed this ugly, awful feeling of guilt, so that Keith could put him in subspace and snuggle him close and reassure him that he was loved. He wanted to press fast forward on this.

Because if he had to look at Keith like this any longer, full of rage and disappointment, Lance was entirely certain the sight was going to trigger him into the mother of all panic attacks.

Luckily, Keith wasted no time. He stopped the car in the driveway and immediately got out of the driver's seat, slamming the door loud enough to make Lance wince.

It was, at least, a small comfort when Keith came around to his side of the car, opening his door for him and offering a hand to help him out. It was something Keith did regularly on the days when Adam or Shiro left a car behind for them to use. It was something that normally made Lance smile and press a grateful kiss to his Dom's cheek.

It wasn't the same today, though. Not with Keith's furious glare, laser eyes and clenched jaw, locked firmly on his face but never meeting his gaze. It was a comfort to Lance in the sense that it reminded him Keith wasn't going to just _forget_ how much he loved his sub, even while burning with anger toward him.

But it wasn't worth much else.

Keith unlocked the front door, opened it, and stood aside to let Lance in first, pointedly looking off to the side to avoid eye contact. Lance took slow, hesitant steps into the house, standing near the couch, wrought with tension and crying even harder than before. He couldn't help the gasp and flinch that escaped when Keith slammed the door shut hard enough to rattle the windows.

Lance fell to his knees, shoulders hunched and head bowed. It didn't feel like there was much point anymore in stifling his sobs. He _cried_ , loud and ugly, tears soaking into the carpet.

Keith remained silent. Lance watched out of the corner of his eye, but didn't dare to lift his head, as Keith walked around him. The Dom slammed his hands against the wall, his back facing Lance. His hands remained there, shaking with anger, as he bowed his own head.

Lance heard Keith taking purposely deep breaths. In through his nose, out through his mouth. Loud and controlled, but trembling all the same.

Panic flared, and Lance was suddenly finding it a lot harder to breathe, too.

Those were the exact same breaths his father took when he was trying to calm himself down. The same breaths that always failed. The same breaths Lance had come to translate as _run for the hills_ , sending him scurrying off to lock himself in his room.

The same breaths his father took right before he flew into an unquenchable rage and began to beat his mother.

The panicked breaths turned to gasps, sharp and desperate. There wasn't enough _air, he couldn't breathe._

Keith seemed to pick up on the change. He whirled around. Lance did lift his head, then, desperate, hoping his eyes would convey the silent message of _please, I can't breathe, help me_. Even though the haze of anger on his face remained, Lance watched recognition dawn on Keith's face, concern sparking in his eyes.

His Dom was on his knees in front of him almost immediately.

" _Lance,_ " Keith said. His tone was indistinguishable. Angry, worried, sad - _every_ negative human emotion tangled together. "Don't panic. You don't have to panic. Take deep breaths, okay?"

They weren't the comforting words Lance expected, nor the ones he wanted. The short, clipped way Keith spoke, such a contrast to the soothing Lance was used to receiving in the midst of a panic attack, did not help in the slightest. It only made everything a _million_ times worse.

What if Keith hated him now? What if that was why his Dom was so distant in this moment that he normally would have dove into headfirst? What if Keith was preparing to cut the cord? What if he didn't want him anymore?

What if Keith didn't _love_ him anymore?

"I'm s-sorry!" He found himself wailing through gasping breaths. " _Please_ don't h-hate me. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to s-scare you. Please don't hate me, Sir, please don't hate me, please don't..."

That seemed to break the dam for Keith.

There was no change in the fury, in the disapproval. They remained. But they were joined by the slightest hint of that familiar softness Lance was missing.

"I don't hate you," Keith murmured. "Of course I don't hate you."

His hands finally rose to touch his sub, cupping Lance's face softly, moving upward to intertwine fingers in his hair. That was what Lance wanted. To receive even a marginal amount of affection before his punishment. A small crumb to feed his hunger for Keith's love, to calm the panic so he could accept his consequences calmly.

Lance's desires did not coincide with his automatic reactions.

He cried out sharply in panic when Keith's hands touched him, despite the fact that their only intention was comfort. Keith's eyes grew wide with alarm. Lance felt guilty and horrible and terrified and it didn't matter that Keith was only trying to help, he still had to _get away don't let him hurt you get away._

Lance pushed himself off of his knees and into a sitting position, using his feet to push himself several feet away in pure desperation before he could fully register what he was doing.

"I'm sorry," he choked again. "Please don't, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

"Lance." Keith's voice cracked. He sounded _heartbroken._ He reached a longing hand out toward his sub, then seemed to think better of it. There was pure agony plain as day in his face as he slowly lowered his arm back to his side. "Sweetheart...what are you doing? You need to come back."

It wasn't quite an order. More of a request. But Lance still couldn't bring himself to verbally say _no._ He was ashamed of himself for being scared of the one person he knew for a fact would never give him any reason to be scared.

He didn't _want_ to feel so terrified of Keith. But he was.

The words fell like broken glass from his lips, panicked rambling filling the room against his will.

"Please don't hurt me. Please don't hurt me. I'm so s-sorry, I won't do it again, Sir, I won't, just - _don't hurt me._ "


	76. you can't change without a fallout

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith took a deep breath as he devised a plan of action.
> 
> Okay. Okay. He could do this. He could fix it.
> 
> Slow and steady seemed like a good way to start.

As if losing Lance in that market hadn't been enough stress on his heart, Keith felt said muscle constricting in his chest, skipping a beat or two, when Lance pushed himself frantically away from the Dom's touch, terror flashing in his eyes.

He was surprised his heart didn't actually give out altogether at those words: _please don't hurt me._

Keith released a strangled cry. It came out of his throat without his permission. He stared at Lance, jaw dropped in shock, and wondered if the sub could actually _hear_ his soul shattering into tiny fragments.

" _Lance_ ," he breathed, blinking back the tears that pricked at his eyes. He'd already done more than enough crying for one day. "Baby, please. I'm not going to hurt you, okay? I _swear_."

Lance was still sobbing, tears streaming down his reddened face. He watched Keith warily, as if waiting for him to make another move so he would know when to bolt. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"Don't be sorry for this, sweetheart. It's not your fault you panicked."

Lance made a small noise of frustration.

"I'm sorry for l-leaving," he clarified, breath hitching. "'M sorry for being scared of you. I don't wanna be. I'm sorry for scaring you. I'm sorry."

_Don't cry. Stay strong. He needs you to stay strong. Don't cry. Don't cry._

Keith took a deep breath as he devised a plan of action.

Okay. _Okay._ He could do this. He could fix it.

Slow and steady seemed like a good way to start.

"Lance," he said, forcing calm into his voice. "I'm gonna come closer to you now, okay? You're safe, sweetheart, I promise. Just...let me come to you. Okay?"

Lance hesitated. His hands twitched where they rested on the carpet. Finally, he gave a jerking nod.

"Okay." Keith exhaled a sigh of relief. "Alright."

He moved at a slow pace across the floor, crawling to close the gap of about four feet that remained between him and his sub. Slow enough to be considered overdramatic, probably - but it seemed to help.

Lance held his breath when Keith approached. Keith sat back on his heels once he arrived, his knees close enough to brush against the toes of Lance's shoes.

"Good boy," Keith whispered. Lance relaxed only ever so slightly, but enough that it was visible. His sobs turned into quiet whimpering with frequently hitching breaths. He was clearly comforted by the praise. "There we go, Lance. You're so good for me, aren't you? Such a good boy, sweetheart. Can I hold your hands?"

Another pause. Another nod, more hesitant than the last one, but permission nonetheless.

Keith reached out and took his sub's hands, one at a time, curling his fingers lovingly around Lance's gloved palms.

So far, so good.

"I'm sorry," Lance whispered again. It had to be the hundredth time he'd said it in the five minutes they'd been home. "I don't wanna be scared of you. I'm sorry I left you in the market."

Keith shook his head. " _Shhh._ You never have to apologize for being scared. And we'll talk about you breaking your rule in a second, okay? You're having a panic attack. That's not important right now."

Lance finally met his eyes, then, mostly out of surprise.

"Are you..." Lance paused, his own hitching breath interrupting him. "Are you not m-mad anymore?"

Keith opened his mouth to respond, then stopped, closing it again.

He knew he had to be particularly careful with his wording in that moment. Saying it the wrong way would no doubt set his sub off on another crying jag. He rubbed his thumbs gently over the backs of Lance's hands as he tested the sentences out in his head.

He _was_ mad. Not as mad as he had been, but there was definitely anger simmering on the backburner.

Lance didn't need to know that, though.

"I'm...upset...that you left my side without telling me first," he said. Lance's bottom lip wobbled. "But I think I got a little too angry with you. I didn't mean to scare you. I just -"

Keith had to stop for a second, taking several deep breaths to keep his tears at bay. Lance watched him with rapt attention, waiting.

After a long moment, he continued: "I thought I'd lost you, Lance. I thought somebody was hurting you, or somebody had taken you, or...that something fucking _horrible_ had happened. You know? I was really, _really_ fucking scared. I had a right to be angry, but - not _that_ angry. I should have been calmer. I owe you an apology for that. I'm so sorry, Lance."

Lance offered him a watery smile that wasn't really much of a smile at all - more like a grimace.

"Guess we both scared each other, huh?" The sub mumbled, sniffling. Keith scoffed a little.

He remembered his own desperation in the market. He remembered having to stop and force himself to catch his breath when hyperventilation had made the edges of his vision turn blurry. He'd definitely been close to having a panic attack of his own.

But he had undoubtedly scared Lance more than Lance scared him.

"That's one way of looking at it," he compromised. "How are you feeling now? The truth, please."

He _looked_ like he was doing better. His fingers still trembled finely where Keith held them, despite the fact that he was still decked out in his full winter attire in a house with the heat on, but the flow of tears had finally slowed to a stop during Keith's mini-speech.

"Better," Lance confirmed, looking at him through still-glistening eyes. "Not panicking anymore. Just..."

"Just what? You can tell me."

"I feel r-really bad for doing that," the sub admitted. "That one time, when, uh...when I told you how b-bad I felt? In the shower?"

Keith nodded. "I remember."

He wouldn't have thought it possible for him to feel any more sympathy and compassion for his sub's mental state in that moment. He was proven wrong.

"It's like that t-times twenty. And I just need you to make it _stop_."

Keith inhaled sharply.

This was...a tricky line to walk.

On one hand, Lance had just been talked down from a full-blown panic attack. He'd broken what was easily, at this point in time, his most important rule, and he was clearly feeling an immense amount of guilt. The punishment couldn't be a simple or easy one like the two he'd received in the past. He feared Lance wasn't quite in the right state of mind to handle the sort of legitimate punishment he needed.

But he also knew Lance _had_ to be punished, or he wasn't going to be feeling better anytime soon. The longer they waited, the more emotional Lance was going to get.

This was as calm as Keith was going to be able to get him, he realized, heart sinking into his stomach. It sucked, but they couldn't put it off.

He took Lance's face in his hands again. The sub didn't pull away this time. He didn't nuzzle into the touch like normal, either. He merely allowed it.

"Let's go get you out of your winter clothes, hm? It's too hot in here for those. Then we can..." Keith took a long, deep breath. "Then we can talk. About...about your punishment."

Lance nodded in approval. Keith gulped.

It was going to be a _long_ afternoon.


	77. this gon hurt but don't you slow down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "That's right. You could have been hurt. You could have been taken away from me, sold as property, and I never would have seen you again. It happens to subs our age all the time. You were a very bad boy today, Lance."
> 
> Finally, Keith began to take control of the situation. Began to give Lance what he wanted and needed so badly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fair warning: this chapter contains consensual, sexualized spanking, and explicit smut/rough sex.
> 
> enjoy!

Lance sat silently on the edge of the mattress as Keith unwound the scarf from around his neck, unbuttoned and pulled off his coat, and slipped the gloves from his hands. His fingers, though entirely warm, still shook with the finest of tremors.

Those tremors faded when Keith cradled Lance's hands tenderly in his own, pressed his lips to each of the ten fingertips, then leaned in to press their mouths together in a sweet and innocent kiss.

"I love you, sweet boy," Keith breathed against his mouth when he pulled away.

That was nice, and Lance enjoyed hearing it. He managed to muster up a little smile as he returned the sentiment.

But he was pretty much ready for his Dom to cut the small talk, bend him over his lap, and spank him hard and ruthless until he was begging for mercy. That sounded much nicer to Lance in that moment than _I love you's_ and fingertip kisses.

He understood why Keith needed this, though. He understood the horror he'd instilled in his mate at the market earlier. He understood how badly it _hurt_ Keith to see his own sub so frightened of him, though Keith would certainly never admit as much aloud.

So Lance let his beloved undress him slowly, providing physical affection all the while, even as he squirmed impatiently in his seat with a desperate need to be punished. Whatever made Keith feel better was fine by him.

"Well, this isn't quite fair," Lance mumbled once Keith had finally stripped him bare, leaving him in nothing but his collar.

Keith cocked his head in confusion. "What isn't?"

"I'm naked, and you're not."

The Dom smiled just a little, that one side twitching upward. But not enough to show that cute little dimple Lance loved so much. Not enough to qualify as a _real_ smile.

There was still such utter heartbreak in his eyes. Still so much suffering, clear as day to Lance, who knew it was his own fault Keith was hurting in the first place. If he had just followed his rules in the first place, if he had only _behaved,_ Keith wouldn't have to feel so sad, looking like the weight of the world was resting on his shoulders.

Oh, _God._ The guilt seemed to act a lot like tides, falling and rising from moment to moment. It came roaring back with a vengeance all of a sudden, flooding his chest cavity, drowning him.

He needed Keith's hands on him. Not nice and sweet, nor talented and curious.

Mean and greedy. Red handprints on his ass, _painful_ swats that would make him cry, bruising grips and growling, harsh words. And, eventually, the Dom's cock, hot and far too rough, pounding him with an equal balance of pain and pleasure.

He _needed_ it. He needed that good kind of hurt. He needed it so bad.

Keith seemed to find a bit of truth in Lance's poor attempt at a joke. He stripped himself down, too. Lance felt somewhat ridiculous for locking eyes onto the Dom's completely soft dick hanging between his legs and the ever so slight curve of his hips. Even unaroused, he found his mate's naked body innately beautiful.

If Keith noticed the direction of his gaze, he didn't say anything.

"Sir," Lance said in a shaking voice. "I r-really can't wait. I can't. Please punish me."

Keith gave him a sorrowful look. Like he felt _bad_ for him.

That wasn't right. Wasn't even remotely close to what he was asking for. Lance clenched his teeth together and bore through it.

"Lance," Keith said, sitting beside him on the bed, taking both of the sub's hands in his own. Which was an awfully innocent gesture considering they were both ass-naked on their own shared bed, but whatever. "I need to make sure you know what you're being punished _for._ Okay? I don't want you to get the wrong idea. You're not in trouble for being scared or panicking. Can you tell me why you're being punished?"

"For breaking a rule." Lance gulped. "For leaving you without permission."

"And why can't you do that?"

"Because it's not safe, Sir. I could have gotten hurt. Horrible things could have happened to me." Lance hung his head, making a soft, remorseful sound as he nuzzled it into his Dom's shoulder.

"That's right. You could have been hurt. You could have been taken away from me, sold as property, and I never would have seen you again. It happens to subs our age _all_ the time. You were a very bad boy today, Lance."

Finally, _finally_ , Keith began to take control of the situation. Began to give Lance what he wanted and needed so badly.

There was a low growl near his ear that sent shivers down his spine. A hand grasped the back of his hair roughly, yanking his head up. Lance gasped at the sting of pain as his hair was pulled - then moaned, low and intentional, knowing it would only egg Keith on.

"You made a terrible choice," Keith growled. His eyes were narrowed, his mouth set in a firm line, radiating anger. Now that the strength of Keith's anger had been tested and proven safe, Lance found no reason to be afraid of it. _Yes, yes, yes. Be angry, be mean. Make it hurt, please._ "You're _so_ important to me, don't you understand that? You can't just go throwing all of your rules out the window because you saw something nice. This is your _life_ we're talking about. You were a bad boy today, Lance. A very bad boy. I am _not_ happy with you."

"Yes, Sir," Lance gasped. "I was bad, Sir. I'm sorry, Sir."

"You fucking better be," Keith said. "I'm going to spank you. Fifteen swats. You'll count them out and thank me for each one. If you lose count, I'll start over." Keith's voice and face grew softer for the briefest of moments as he asked, "Does that sound fair to you? Tell me the truth, please."

Lance's heart leapt into his throat, adrenaline coursing through his veins. It was exactly the punishment he'd been hoping for. Sometimes he really wondered if Keith could read his mind.

"Yes, Sir," Lance said. "That sounds perfect, Sir."

The grip in his hair tightened. Keith settled himself to sit straight up on the mattress, feet planted firmly on the floor. He pulled Lance forward by his hair, encouraging him to lay across his lap, ass arched upward as if to present it to his Dom.

Lance bit into the bedspread to muffle a scream when the first swat landed.

It was _hard._ Nothing like the less serious, only slightly stinging spanks Keith had been using as of late to arouse his sub. This was deep and painful, packing so much more force behind it than either of them was used to. Lance's entire body jolted forward simply from impact.

"O-one," he panted. "Thank you, Sir."

"You made awful choices today. I'm so disappointed in you."

Another, similar swat to his other ass cheek. Lance whimpered, tears beginning to leak out the corners of his eyes. Tears of pain, terrible guilt, and sweet relief all rolled into one messy tangle of feelings.

"Two," he whined, sniffling. "Thank you, Sir."

" _Bad_ boy, Lance. Can't believe you ran off like that. What were you thinking?"

Lance outright sobbed when the next hit came. It landed directly back on the same spot as the first one, and he wasn't anticipating how much more it would hurt with that area surely already bearing a reddened handprint.

"Th-three. Thank you, S-Sir."

Keith's hand settled on the small of his back, pressing lightly. It wasn't soothing, nor was it meant to be. It was only meant to ground him, tethering him to reality so he couldn't drift off into the abyss of panic, and in that aspect, it was a godsend.

"What color, Lance?"

"Green, Sir."

"Are you sure?"

" _Yes._ Yes, Sir, please. I need it. I need it."

" _Shhh._ Alright. You're getting your punishment." Keith's voice grew momentarily more gentle, but the firmness never left. "I know you feel horrible right now, Lance. I'll make it feel better, okay? I'm gonna take all of that way."

Another swat. Lance cried out, and another few tears fell down his face. "Four. Thank you, Sir."

By the tenth swat, Lance had made two new realizations: firstly, that the almost unbearable pain of the spanking was beginning to shoot straight to his groin the same way lighter, more playful swats always had. As if his brain was rewiring itself to recognize this punishment for the good thing it was.

Secondly, he realized Keith's own cock was pressed against his hip, no barrier there to restrict the contact between flesh and flesh. And Keith, too, was half-hard against him, clearly finding a decent amount of enjoyment in holding all of Lance's power in his own hands.

" _A-ah!_ Eleven! Th-thank you, Sir - _oh_..."

Keith moaned lightly above him, his first vocal acknowledgment of the air of sexuality the moment had grown into.

"Fuck," Keith said. "This is where you belong, isn't it? You're mine. I own you. Everything about you is _mine._ "

"Twelve - thank you, Sir. God, yes. 'M all yours, only yours."

"Feels good when I punish you like this, right? Makes you want me. It should. You just needed to be put back in your place, didn't you? I'm the Dom here, Lance. You listen to _me._ "

"Yes, Sir, _yes_ , I want you so bad. You own me." Lance panted, just barely stopping himself from rolling his hips into Keith's thigh. Another swat. " _God!_ Thirteen. Thank you, Sir."

Lance had almost forgotten, over the past hour or so, what it actually felt like to exist without that horrible guilt raging through him. Now that it was all but gone, the world itself felt like a brighter place. He gave in, willingly handing all of his power to the young man he trusted above anyone or anything else. The _only_ person he could really trust to have him like this.

The sub practically howled when the final, fifteenth swat was landed. He stuttered through a sorry attempt for counting it out and thanking his Dom.

Dry sobs fell from his mouth, but they didn't originate in sadness. Only in utter relief and mental exhaustion.

Immediately, Keith was an entirely different person. He stowed his punishment persona away and gently encouraged Lance to lay flat on his stomach on the mattress rather than on his lap.

His now fully hard cock was trapped so wonderfully between the bed and his own stomach, and he was _desperate_ for friction, for touch, for anything.

"Sir," Lance moaned, unable to contain the few rolls of his hips before he stopped himself. Thankfully, Keith turned a blind eye on his momentary slip-up of pleasuring himself. "Sir, _please._ You know what I need. You know."

The bed creaked. Keith was overtop his legs, knees resting on the outsides of his calves. "On your hands and knees, beautiful." The nightstand drawer was pulled open, then closed. Lance heard the familiar sound of the lube bottle lid popping open. "I'll give you what you want. I'm gonna take such good care of you, sweetheart."

Lance scrambled to obey, panting. He spread his legs, hands bracing himself up. Keith, fully erect, brushed against his throughly reddened ass.

He was expecting the familiarity of a slick, lubed finger sliding into his ass, and then later a second joining it, causing him to essentially lose all control of his own words and voice as his mate prepped him.

What Lance _wasn't_ expecting was for Keith to suddenly pull his fingers out, lower his face to the sub's ass, and press his tongue inside. Hands pulled the cheeks apart and the Dom's mouth lapped at him hungrily.

"Sir!" He cried out. "Oh, God, yes! Please, yes!"

They'd only done this once before. Lance had asked for it as his promised treat after he'd blown Keith in the library. The activity had made him cum hard enough that Keith decided it would be savored as a reward for special occassions.

Lance didn't know what about this day would possibly make Keith regard it as a special occasion, or regard him as deserving a reward, but he was absolutely _not_ complaining.

Keith moaned loudly against him. But what really gave away the fact that he was enjoying this as much as his sub were the few rarely heard _whines_ that fell from his open, busy mouth.

"So good," Keith whimpered into his ass. Lance heard the slick sound of Keith's lubed hand frantically jerking off his own cock. " _Fuck_ , baby, you taste so good."

The combination of being eaten out, hearing Keith's rare desperation in his search for release, and the wet sounds of Keith touching himself - they were all too much. Lance found himself teetering dangerously close to the edge before long.

"Sir," Lance panted. " _Sir._ Gonna cum. Please, don't let me cum yet. Want you inside. Want you to cum inside me."

Keith made a low sound of disappointment as he pulled his mouth away from Lance's ass and released his grip on himself. This was soon remedied by his tip pressing against Lance's hole, slowly pushing inside.

With the minimal prep, a lot of which involved a wet tongue rather than fingers, there was a distinct burn as Keith pushed into him. It grew marginally worse as the Dom bottomed out, pressing in as far as he could go - but not bad enough for Lance to dislike it. He had, after all, asked for it rough.

And rough was exactly what he got.

Keith was _ruthless._ He howled and moaned the same way one might expect a sub to as he fucked his mate with no pretense of mercy, quick and hard, the sound of skin slapping skin resounding in their small bedroom.

Lance met his sounds with an equal fervor. "Sir! I'm close, I'm _so_ close - please, can I cum? Please, Sir."

"Oh, _fuck_ , yeah," Keith cried out. "Fuck, sweet boy, gonna fill you up soon. You wanna cum? Wanna cum with me, beautiful?"

"Yes, please, _yes_."

"Shit, _shit._ " Keith wrapped a hand around his sub's cock, stroking him out of sync with his thrusts, which were quickly becoming uncoordinated and sloppy as the Dom grew nearer to the edge. "Gonna cum - _fuck,_ babe, gonna cum so fucking h-hard -"

It was Keith who came first, screaming Lance's name repeatedly into the air. His hips twitched and jerked desperately against Lance's ass as he filled the sub with hot cum.

It was, above all else, Keith's _noise_ that drove Lance to find his own climax, his voice reaching a similar volume when he spilled his release into Keith's hand. He would never get over hearing his Dom essentially losing all control of himself and knowing he was the one who had caused such intense ecstacy for his love. The submissive instincts that led him to so very much enjoy serving Keith hummed in joy at the thought.

"Keith," Lance whimpered as he came down from his high, knowing he was fully welcomed to say his name now that they'd both finished. "Th-thank you. _Mm_. Thank you."

" _Fuuuck_ ," Keith moaned, leaning forward to rest his forehead against Lance's shoulder blades, breathing harshly. "Oh, fuck. You're so welcome. That was so good, baby. So good for me, weren't you? My good boy."

Lance somehow found the mind to respond even as he slipped peacefully into subspace, Keith's arms wrapped around his waist to hold him steady when he lost the strength to hold himself upright.

"Love being good for you." Lance heard his own voice whispering distantly, as if it belonged to someone else. "Made me feel so much better. Love it when you take me. Love you, Keith, _so much_. Thank you."

He heard the telltale signs of Keith fighting back tears as he responded in a choked way: "I love you more, beautiful. I'd do anything to make you happy. I would _never_ hurt you. I hope you know that."

Lance did know, and he believed it, wholeheartedly.


	78. get back up cause it's a hard love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam pursed his lips into a thin line, and laid a hand on his son's shoulder.
> 
> "Hey. Let's go out on the porch, hm? You look like you need to talk."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you know what, you guys? you're right. I've been dishing out way too much lance angst lately, it's really not fair. you guys deserve better than that. I should change it up a little...
> 
> ...how about some keith angst?
> 
> :)

Adam knew something was up the moment he saw Keith sitting on the arm of the couch, looking solemn with dark circles beneath his eyes, even as Lance's laughter drifted from the kitchen nearby.

He couldn't recall a time he'd ever seen his son _not_ smile when Lance laughed. It was almost instinctual. He himself did the same thing with Takashi, unable to help the corners of his lips turning upwards and the steady thrumming of love in his chest.

Keith wasn't smiling today. Not even a little.

" _Heyyy!_ " Lance whined playfully, the sound echoing throughout the house.

Takashi laughed - an absolutely _joyous_ noise. Tis the season, indeed.

"Well, it's not my fault you moved!" His sub defended.

"You got that icing _all_ over my arm! It's gonna be stained blue for a week! Shiro _ooo_ , come on!"

"Oh, I'm so sorry. I should have known you'd prefer the red frosting -"

"Wha - _nooo!_ You put that spoon down right now, Takashi Shirogane, or you're 'bout to catch these hands!"

To Adam, it was the most beautiful thing he could have hoped to hear a mere five days out from Christmas. The two subs of the house playing cheerfully as they baked cookies, any instance of trauma or pain lost far behind them, was a true holiday miracle.

But none of it seemed to register with Keith. If a picture was snapped of him in that moment, one might have thought he was spending the holiday cold and alone in an empty house.

"Hey," Adam said, slowly taking the last few steps down the staircase. "You alright, son?"

Keith was snapped out of his stupor. He looked at his father in surprise.

"Oh," he said numbly once he saw who it was. "Yeah. I'm fine."

"You don't _look_ fine."

Adam had been thinking for a while now about how good Lance was for Keith. His newly eighteen year old son was so much kinder nowadays, so much less likely to cop an attitude with his family or anybody else. He was...maturing.

It showed in his response now. Six months before, Keith would have made a heated comment about how he _said_ he was _fine_ , stomped up the stairs, and slammed his bedroom door.

Now, he only shrugged. "Got a lot on my mind."

Adam looked through the archway between the kitchen and the living room. Sure enough, Takashi was still trying to stealthily tap a spoon of red frosting against Lance's arm whenever the boy had his back turned, much to Lance's joking ire.

Keith did not spare the two of them a single glance. It was almost as if he didn't _want_ to see them.

Adam pursed his lips into a thin line, and laid a hand on his son's shoulder.

"Hey. Let's go out on the porch, hm? You look like you need to talk."

* * *

If it was Shiro's duty to dish out unending parental affections on Lance, assuring him that he had a secure placement in a loving family, then Adam supposed this right here was _his_ responsibility.

Holding Keith tight against him while the younger Dom sobbed into his shoulder, his heart feeling as though it was actually, physically _breaking_ for his child's suffering.

"Keith..." Adam whispered, unsure what he was supposed to say. They'd barely stepped outside for thirty seconds before Keith had completely fallen to pieces with no rhyme, reason, or explanation. Frankly, Adam was a little bit terrified.

"I'm sorry," Keith cried, muffled into his father's coat. "I can't...I _can't_..."

Adam soothed a hand through his son's hair, holding him impossibly tighter. He swallowed back the lump that rose in his throat.

"What on earth are you sorry for?" Adam asked. He fought to keep his voice steady.

"I scared him. I _scared_ him. I'm fucking horrible. I don't deserve him and I fucking _suck_ , oh my _God_."

Adam would be lying if he said he wasn't surprised. Lance hardly seemed scared of Keith at the breakfast table that morning, chair pulled close enough to the other boy's that it practically qualified as sitting in his lap, gazing at him in complete and utter adoration.

He supposed a lot could have happened between Keith allegedly scaring his sub and now. But if Lance had already moved past it, why was his son still hurting so badly?

"How did you do that?" Adam asked in a whisper. There was no judgment or disapproval in his tone. Keith's relationship was hardly his business.

Keith's extreme despair, though - that was _entirely_ his business. Because it was an unnacceptable thing and it needed to stop immediately.

The story was weaved for Adam, then. It took forever, pressed out between sobs and hitching breaths and far too many self-depricating comments that made Adam fear a little for his kid's mental state.

Keith was still just a kid. Adam forgot that sometimes, what with all his newfound maturity.

He just wished the universe would have chosen a less viscious way to remind him.

Having the bigger picture of this story was enough to suck all the Christmas cheer right out of him. It was entirely cruel to have these words heaped upon the tale in addition: "I _hate_ myself. Why the fuck did I d-do that to him? Why am I so fucking _stupid?_ God, I don't - I don't d-deserve him, don't deserve any of you. I'm so fucking useless."

Adam inhaled sharply. He gave Keith a small, firm shake.

" _Hey_ ," he whispered fiercely. "You stop talking like that right now. You are _not_ useless, Keith Kogane. And you have a whole house of people here who absolutely love you to death. Why would you hate yourself?"

"Were you even _listening?_ " Keith wailed. "He was terrified. And he h-had a right to be. And I fucking _lost_ him, and anything c-could've happened to him -"

"But it didn't. It didn't, Keith. He's safe. He's inside the house right now, well and happy. He still loves you. Everything turned out just fine."

"I'll d-do it again. I know I will. I always fuck everything up."

Adam didn't know how to respond to that.

He couldn't exactly promise Keith that he would never make another mistake, that he was always going to do right by Lance. If he did, it would be a lie. Nobody was perfect.

Keith wasn't thinking of himself as simply another imperfect being who was trying his best, though. He was thinking of himself as an absolute screw-up. As somebody who didn't deserve to have a claimed sub of his own. As useless.

_I hate myself._

God, the kid might as well just stab a dagger right through Adam's chest, for all the pain those words caused him.

He'd always wondered if he and Takashi would be enough to teach Keith the art of accepting love after thirteen years of being taught all the wrong things. There had been ups and downs along this road they were still traveling today. He'd been starting to think, ever since Lance came along and brightened up their lives, that maybe the final mountain had been peaked, and it would be relatively smooth sailing from here on out.

Wishful thinking. That's all that was.

Keith was still that same traumatized, cynical young kid, only now he was trapped in the body of a teenager. He was just as broken today as he ever was.

He'd just gotten a hell of a lot better at hiding it.

Adam could do a lot of unhelpful things in response to this moment. He could demand Keith see a professional and drag him to the same therapy practice Lance visisted every Thursday. He could put him on antidepressants. He could force him to write all of his feelings down in a damn diary, or something.

But he couldn't _make_ Keith stop hating himself. Neither could Takashi, or even Lance. The only person who could make Keith finally take the first steps toward healing was _Keith._ Nobody else could force that upon him if he wasn't willing to accept it.

And after a little over four and a half years of stewing in his own trauma...really, Adam couldn't help but doubt. He couldn't help but wonder if Keith would _ever_ find the closure he so deserved on his gruesome childhood. If he even wanted to.

All he could do was to make sure that Keith knew, by telling him every single day, over and over again, that he was so deeply and unconditionally _loved._ All he could do was pray that, one day, Keith would finally allow himself to look up and see the light that had already been shining in front of him for so long.

Today, Adam did the only thing he could.

He held his kid a little tighter, and he, too, began to cry.


	79. i hope you're somewhere praying, i hope your soul is changing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I said no. I'm not coming home for Christmas." Lance paused, jaw clenched, and bravely allowed some of all this pent-up anger to leak through in his voice. "Actually - you know what? Screw that. I am home for Christmas. And you're not welcome to be a part of it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GO GET EM LANCE YEEEET
> 
> merry Christmas eve everyone! :)

"Who is it?" Keith asked, leaning over to peer at the ringing graviphone.

Lance gulped. His shoulders were suddenly tense under Keith's arm.

The contact name now only read _Sperm Donor_ (because Keith thought it would be funny, and, yeah, it was.) But this number used to be saved under _Dad._

He shrugged out of Keith's embrace and stepped away from the couch, a thumbnail he hadn't chewed at in weeks between his teeth. He paced for a moment, considering. Then, Lance swiped the green button.

"Hello?" He asked in a quaking voice.

_Lance. Hey. You never called me to ask about Christmas. What's up with that?_

"I-I'm sorry. I've just been busy. You know...school, and stuff."

_You really expect me to believe the Garrison is running classes on the week of Christmas? I'm not stupid, kid._

"Yeah, uh. Of course you're not. Gosh, yeah, I'm - I'm sorry, Dad. Must have just slipped my mind."

Keith's inquisitive look turned to one of fiery rage in an instant.

"Lance," he whispered from the couch, all the seriousness in the world instilled into that one word. "Do you want me to take it? I can talk to him."

Lance shook his head firmly to decline his Dom's offer.

He was done running. He was done handing off his battles to everyone else, letting them fight for him. It was time he faced the music himself.

_That's a shitty excuse. You shouldn't forget who your family is, kid, just because you're away from us._

He knew exactly who his family was. This man certainly had no place in it.

But, of course, Lance hardly had the guts to tell him as much.

_Anyways. Your flight leaves at eight in the morning, you think you can be out by then?_

Lance froze. "W-what?"

_Your flight, Lance, are you even listening to me? Your flight back home for Christmas. Don't worry, I already paid for the ticket and everything. I'll have my driver pick you up at the airport at around -_

"No."

_...excuse me? What did you just say to me?_

"I said _no._ I'm not coming home for Christmas." His paused, jaw clenched, and bravely allowed some of all this pent-up anger to leak through in his voice. "Actually - you know what? Screw that. I _am_ home for Christmas. And you're not welcome to be a part of it."

_Who the fuck do you think you are, you little shit? You're gonna be on that goddamn plane tomorrow and you're going to come home for the holidays. End of discussion._

"No, Alexander. I'm not."

_Don't you fucking use my name. You've got some kind of nerve, kid. What, you manage to cheat your way into some school for little Einsteins and all of a sudden you think you're too good for us? I can't believe you're going to do this to your mother. You're going to make her cry. Do you want to make your m-_

"Goodbye, Alexander. I hope you have a wonderful Christmas."

Swiping that little red button to end the call was - _exhilarating._

Lance thought it must feel exactly like freedom.


	80. have yourself a merry little christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Merry Christmas, Keith."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> merry Christmas, my loves!

"Penny for your thoughts, m'dear?"

It was strange, stepping out onto the same porch where he'd had a mortifying breakdown in his father's arms only a few days before, a steaming mug of cocoa in his hands. Their front yard somehow didn't look the same anymore.

Keith knew he would find Lance there. It was the most likely option when he woke up to the barely-light sky on Christmas morning, the other side of the bed still warm but his sub nowhere to be found. The guy was a sucker for a good sunrise. Keith was more of a sunset guy himself.

Lance shot him a soft smile over his shoulder from where he leaned forward against the railing. His fingers picked half-heartedly at the chipping paint. Adam had promised Shiro months ago he was going to repaint it, but he kept putting it off. Shiro seemed to have counted it as a lost endeavor.

"Nothing much," Lance whispered, as if they could wake the older couple inside or any of the neighbors from this distance. Or maybe as if he was afraid of shattering the fragile morning peace. "Just...stuff. Thanks," he added when Keith pressed the warm mug into his hands.

"You're not wearing your gloves," Keith pointed out nonchalantly, leaning against the railing right next to him, except it wasn't actually such a nonchalant thought in his head.

He wondered if he'd ruined cute gloves and scarves for Lance. He probably had. He tended to ruin a lot of things.

"It's not _that_ cold," Lance smirked at him, glancing at the Dom out of the corner of his eye, one brow raised. "Come on, Kogane, man up."

That did get a smile out of Keith. Lance was incredibly talented at that, making him smile.

He wrapped his arms around his sub, pulling him to rest against him. Lance set the mug down on the railing and lowered his head to lay it on Keith's shoulder, sighing in content when their hands were intertwined together and stuffed collectively into Keith's coat pockets.

"Well, if you're going to do such a shitty job of keeping yourself warm..." He joked right back. "Man, I have to do _everything_ around here, don't I?"

"Hey! That's Shiro's line."

"Oh, whatever."

"Plagarism."

"Mmhm."

"Verbal plagarism."

"Sure, Lance."

"That's a thing, right?"

"To _some_ people, apparently."

Lance laughed into his shoulder. Keith could feel the corner of his teeth-baring grin against his neck.

It gave him some kind of hope, being with Lance like this, being able to make him laugh on a chilly Christmas morning. Having Lance melt so easily into him, like there was nowhere else in the world he would rather be (and maybe there wasn't.)

It gave Keith hope that - maybe, just maybe - he could get this being a good Dom thing right, after all. Maybe he...wasn't really doing _that_ bad of a job.

There was a possibility he would feel very differently about that tomorrow morning. And the next morning after that, even more different still. But for now, Keith could allow himself to be content to hold Lance close and believe that, right here, right now, he was doing it correctly.

For now, this was enough.

Keith pressed a kiss to the top of Lance's head, allowing himself a moment of pause to inhale the saltwater scent of his shampoo.

Lance turned his head to the side where it rested on Keith's shoulder to gaze up at him. That look in his eyes absolutely stole Keith's breath away. It was one of pure, unadultered, unshifting devotion.

"I love you, Keith," Lance whispered.

"I love you more."

"No. Don't say that."

"Say what?"

"That you love me more. It's just not true."

Keith firmly disagreed. He nodded his head anyways. It was the least he could do after their recent disaster to firmly put a halt on anything that made Lance even the slightest bit uncomfortable.

"Fine. I love you, too, then."

Lance nodded in acceptance of this modified statement. He still wasn't done, though.

"I - I _really_ love you, Keith, I do. And so do Adam and Shiro. Okay? You've...looked really sad the past couple of days. And you've been quiet. I just don't want you to forget..."

Keith swallowed thickly. "Forget what, sweetheart?"

"I don't want you to forget that you matter, too. You know? You're important. People love you. Please don't ever forget that."

There was a brief moment of panic where he wondered if Lance could have possibly overheard his conversation with Adam. He was sure his sub would hold that piece of ugly blackmail, him sobbing like a pathetic baby for no good goddamn reason, over his head for the rest of their lives.

But no. Lance hadn't heard anything. He was just really fucking smart like that. Intuitive. So in touch with Keith's emotions and thoughts, like he wanted to look out _for_ him the same way he was looked after _by_ him. Because...

Keith took a deep breath, the inhale shuddering.

He'd known, of course, mentally. He knew. But he'd never _felt_ it like this before, resonating deep inside his bones, etching the words there to remain for all of eternity. The realization hit him like a train.

_Because he loves me._

He sniffled. A few tears began to fall, dripping into Lance's hair. Keith let them. Lance already knew he was sad, apparently. There wasn't much use in trying to hide it.

"Is that what you were thinking about?" Keith asked. His voice broke on the last word. Lance nodded, watching him with sad eyes.

"Yeah," he whispered. His hand rubbed at the back of Keith's head, fingers soothing through his hair. "I've been worried. You're not yourself."

"I'm sorry."

" _Don't_ be sorry. You always tell me I shouldn't be sorry for things that aren't my fault."

"Yeah. I do, don't I?"

Lance nodded. He pressed a sweet kiss beneath Keith's ear, another to his jaw, yet another to his neck. "So you shouldn't be, either. It's okay to not be okay."

_It's okay to not be okay._

Maybe, Keith thought, sometimes, it was.

Lance was unfairly wise for his age, after all. He wasn't often wrong about things like this. It would be foolish not to take his word for it.

"Thank you," Keith said. He sniffled one last time and cleared his throat, bringing up the edge of his sleeve to wipe the remnants of tears from his eyes. "You're really fucking amazing, Lance, you know that?"

Lance scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Well, _duh_."

Keith laughed a small, almost silent laugh, and hugged him tighter. "Spoiled brat."

"Stop spoiling me, then."

" _Never._ "

Lance smiled up at him.

"Merry Christmas, Keith."

"Merry Christmas."

It was, wasn't it?


	81. you can drag me through hell (if it meant i could hold your hand)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He knew his research wasn't worthwhile. He was beginning to see, after all this time, that Shiro and Adam had been right all along. There really was nothing out there. He'd only wanted to believe there was, desperate to know anything about his mother, so he let himself see and feel things that were never there to begin with.

"Babe?"

"Hm?"

"What is this?"

Keith lay on the bed on his stomach, ankles hooked together and swinging. He looked up casually from his notepad, halfway through a yawn, rubbing one eye blearily - and froze.

He was up from the bed in an instant, snatching the ratty old three-ring binder out of Lance's hands. A couple of paper maps fell out, fluttering to the ground. He scrambled to pick them up.

His face had to be absolutely _burning._

Lance watched him with wide eyes and both brows raised nearly to his hairline. "Um... _okay_ , then?"

"It's nothing," Keith said quickly. "Seriously, just - why were you even looking in that drawer?"

"Well, I _was_ looking for my uniform belt, since, you know, school starts back tomorrow." Lance spoke slow and deliberate, as if he wasn't sure Keith would understand his regular speech. Keith shot him a glare that didn't hold much heat as he stuffed the maps haphazardly back into the binder. "But now I'm wondering if I should be looking for, like, your drug stash or something. What even is that?"

"I said it's nothing," Keith said, words clipped and final. He pulled open the bottom dresser drawer with shaking hands and stuffed the binder back under the pile of too-small clothes Lance had disrupted in finding it. He would have to find a better hiding place later, when his sub wasn't around.

"You're definitely not acting like it's nothing."

"Look, Lance, just drop it, okay?"

"Is that an order?"

Keith paused. "I mean... _no_ -"

"Then no. What is it, Keith?"

"You're _obnoxious_."

"I'm _curious,_ and wow, you're _rude_." Lance scoffed.

Keith sat on the edge of the mattress and ran his fingers roughly through his own hair, nails scraping his scalp. Lance plopped down next to him with a heavy sigh.

After a long few moments of silence, Lance continued, "Why are you embarrassed about it?"

"What? I'm not embarrassed. That would be stupid. Of course I'm not embarrassed."

"Says the guy blushing while he rambles about how definitely not-embarrassed he is."

Keith had a choice to make.

Granted, it wasn't exactly a very big or important choice. He knew his research wasn't worthwhile. He was beginning to see, after all this time, that Shiro and Adam had been right all along. There really _was_ nothing out there. He'd only wanted to believe there was, desperate to know _anything_ about his mother, so he let himself see and feel things that were never there to begin with.

He didn't want Lance to know he'd played such a childish game of make-believe for so long. Or, worse, for Lance to know he actually _did_ believe in it, once. Keith didn't want him to know the ugly truth about his many runaway attempts, to know that he'd created a rift between himself and his parents, always letting Adam and Shiro painstakingly mend the distance just for their son to rip it apart time and time again.

It was selfish. It was stupid. He regretted it immensely. If he could turn back time and give his sixteen year old self a very harsh slap to the face, he would.

...okay. Maybe he was a _little_ bit embarrassed by it.

But so what? It was worth being embarrassed about.

"It's really dumb," Keith tried weakly.

"I bet it's really not."

Keith gulped. He didn't know how Lance _did_ that. This boy just believed in him so effortlessly in absolutely every endeavor, without ever thinking to ask for a single crumb of proof. It made no sense.

It was still nice, though. Nice that there was somebody in the world who believed in him unconditionally, even when his own fathers doubted.

"It's...research," he admitted quietly. "The shack, uh, that my dad raised me in, until he died. He and my mom lived there, before I came along, but he never really talked about her."

"Oh." Lance blinked. "You're...researching a...shack?"

"No. No, uh." He took a deep breath. He was going to sound like an absolute _child._

But he said it anyway. Lance deserved the truth.

"I feel like there's...something out there, you know? I took a trip out to the shack once with Adam and Shiro, 'cause they thought it would help me find closure or something. And I just got this weird feeling, being there. It's like some energy was telling me to search."

"Search for what?"

"That's the problem. I have _no_ idea."

"Oh."

"Yeah. So I - ran away, a lot. Like, right up until we met. Tried to get back there and look. They always came and found me before I made it too far."

"How many times?"

Lance asked _so_ nonchalantly. Like this was a normal thing to be talking about. Like it didn't make Keith sound batshit insane. Lance's eyes were wide with genuine curiosity.

"I don't know, honestly. I wasn't thinking about keeping track. Fifteen, maybe. I still have no idea what it is out there. But I have a bunch of stuff in that binder that I took with me the first time, when I went with them, and I've been adding to it. You know. Finding maps of the area. Trying to figure out where something big enough to create that kind of energy could be hiding."

Lance exhaled, still staring. "Wow."

"I'm sorry. I sound like an idiot, let's just -"

"No, no! You don't. I swear, you don't. That's just - _wow_."

"I just feel like it - has something to do with my mom. Somehow. I don't know. Like I said, it's stupid."

Keith met Lance's eyes, holding his gaze.

Lance did not look judgmental. He didn't look like he thought his Dom had absolutely lost his mind like Keith feared he would. Instead, there was a sparkle in his eyes. Something that looked a hell of a lot like inspiration.

"Can I see it?" Lance asked.

Keith blinked. "My...my research? You want to see my research? Seriously?"

"Yeah," Lance shrugged. "Why not? If there's something that cool out there, I want to know about it."

Keith felt an overwhelming surge of affection for his sub. He pulled Lance against him in a crushing hug without any warning, earning an _oof_ as the wind was knocked out of his lover. Lance wasted no time in wrapping his own arms around Keith's waist.

"Yeah. You can see it. Come here."

And Keith couldn't help but feel like this was the way it was always meant to be. Like maybe _this_ was why he hadn't been able to figure any of it out yet, wallowing in the frustration of _knowing_ but never knowing what or where. Maybe it was just because he didn't have the right person by his side, aiding him in his search.

Maybe Lance was the key he'd been looking for all this time.


	82. i'm proud of who i am (no more monsters, i can breathe again)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro was...undecided.
> 
> But he was beginning to see where the balance fell.

Shiro was...undecided.

This was everything he'd ever wanted.

Or, at least, it was the only thing he'd ever wanted that he didn't yet have. And it was _so close_ , his for the taking, just waiting open for him to grasp.

But if he did choose to take it, he wouldn't just be taking something. He would be leaving things behind, too. He would be leaving behind all those other wonderful things he'd somehow, miraculously, been lucky enough to find.

Things like Adam.

Things like Keith.

Things like Lance.

Of course, he wouldn't be leaving them behind forever. It would only be for a year - a year exactly, in fact, right down to the day. But the problem lied in the fact that Shiro still didn't know how _many_ years he would have left to share with his family.

Was it really worth giving up what might be one year out of the last three or five or ten of his life?

Was it worth giving up something of his own when this new, miraculous thing might potentially help billions of others live longer lives down the road?

Shiro was... _undecided._

But he was beginning to see where the balance fell.


	83. if you wanna get that special lovin' (tell me that i'm beautiful)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was funny, he thought, that this was meant to be a punishment for Lance, and yet it inadvertently ended up being a punishment for him, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for those who were wondering after the last 2 chapters: yes, this series will strongly intertwine with canon later down the road! the next few sequels will have vague hints of canon, just like this story does, as we follow lance and keith thru college and the conflicts that arise there. but later on down the road there will be a sequel that basically rewrites the 8 seasons of voltron within this universe! like, established klance at age 20-ish fighting the vld wars!! i'm super excited about it and so glad y'all like the idea!
> 
> and after the vld rewrite one, i'll write some shorter but still multi chaptered hlp stories. a lot of them will be prequels - keith's childhood, adam's childhood, shiro and adam meeting and getting together, etc. and hopefully some shorter sequels of post war married life klance also set in this same D/s world and timeline! don't worry about lance's childhood, a lot of that will be seen in the next upcoming sequel. and shiro had a pretty normal childhood so there's not much to tell there. 
> 
> i'm so glad there are so many of y'all who want to stick around for this series. like...this story has over a thousand kudos and hundreds of subscriptions and comments? that's just crazy to me. the journey is only just beginning! 
> 
> but ANYWAYS- this chapter is literally just straight up smut with a side of lovey dovey mush and i have absolutely zero regrets
> 
> enjoy!

"You - _ah_ \- you b-brought this on yourself, you know."

Lance gave him a pained look, a slight whine falling from his mouth. He pulled gently at the restraints holding his wrists tight to the headboard. Keith paid no mind to his sub's protests. He only stared, licking his lips hungrily from the other side of the room, at Lance's naked body.

_God,_ he wanted to touch him. Wanted his hands all over that soft skin, wanted to be buried deep inside, wanted Lance's unfairly huge cock heavy and warm in his mouth.

It was funny, he thought, that this was meant to be a punishment for Lance, and yet it inadvertently ended up being a punishment for him, too.

Though less of a punishment for Keith, probably. He was, after all, the one bouncing frantically over a dildo in his own desk chair. He was the one allowed to touch himself. Meanwhile, Lance was the one restrained with a cock ring around his base, not yet allowed to find any sort of relief for his aching lust.

And Keith's words were correct. Lance _did_ bring this on himself. He was the one who'd chosen to jerk himself off that morning without Keith's knowledge, then spent the entire school day slinking around, looking horribly sad and causing his Dom a decent amount of worry, before finally 'fessing up.

_Yeah,_ Keith smirked as Lance glared half-heartedly at him from the bed. _This seems pretty fair._

Still, he knew he wouldn't be able to hold out much longer.

They'd already been at this for forty-five minutes, Lance only allowed to watch Keith pleasure himself in various ways but not allowed to do anything about it. The Dom had already cum once, his knees resting between Lance's shoulders on the bed while his sub sucked him off, Keith's head thrown back and cries escaping his lips (partially for show.)

He was already well on his way to his second orgasm of the afternoon, after a brief break to allow his body to recover, but it still wasn't the _same._ It wasn't the same as Lance _engaging_ in the activities with him. It wasn't the same as being inside him.

His smug facade was beginning to falter. That was alright. He hadn't planned for this punishment to last any longer than an hour; Lance hardly looked like he felt too guilty anymore, and they were nearing the part where he would finally, _finally_ be able to make his sweet boy feel good.

"Oh, _God_ ," Keith moaned, eyes fluttering closed for a moment when the long plastic toy brushed inside at _just_ the right angle, sending shockwaves of pleasure up his spine. " _Fuck_. Lance, baby. _Mmm._ You see how good this is? See how good I feel? You could have had this, too, if you hadn't broken a rule. Probably would have cum already."

Lance panted heavily, tugging at the wrist restraints again. Keith only flashed him an innocent smile, knowing the lack of safeword meant his sub wasn't serious about wanting free.

"Sir," Lance whimpered, hips squirming _so_ deliciously against the mussed beadspread. "I'm sorry, Sir. Can I please cum now, Sir?"

"Not y-yet." Keith felt that familiar sensation of being so near orgasm, a cluster of stars pulling tight together just before the final explosion that would send them reeling. "F-fuck - _fuck_ , Lance, sweetheart, gonna cum soon - _God_ -"

"Please let me touch you," Lance begged, words running together with the speed at which they were spoken. Keith knew his sub was desperate to have a part in his Dom's moment of ecstacy, desperate to have Keith's cum either on him or in him. Keith shook his head in denial. "Sir, _please._ Please, want to make you feel good, that's _all_ , I swear."

Keith knew the game he was playing. Frankly, he was impressed by it. If he didn't know any better, he might have caved.

But Keith did know better. He knew exactly how easily and intensely a sub could orgasm without any need of being touched. He knew they received a dizzying headrush of gratification from serving a Dom, and even better yet from making them cum.

Lance seemed to forget, however, the silver cock ring still around him. No matter how blissful he found it to make Keith feel good, he certainly wouldn't be cumming anytime soon if that ring had anything to say about it.

"Gonna c-cum," Keith moaned, his own needy attempts dig the dildo as far inside as it could go becoming sloppy and erratic. "Then I'll come take care of you. Oh, Lance, sweet boy - look so nice for me, love s-seeing you like that, hearing you beg for me - gonna be your cock I ride like this next time - oh, fuck, fuck, _fuck!_ Ah, _Lance!_ "

He came fast and hard, loose swears and praises falling from his lips. He heard Lance whining loudly now, practically writhing on the bed in search for some friction of his own. Keith's cum hit the edge of the chair, dripping onto the floor.

"Want that," he heard Lance begging breathlessly. " _Want_ that, on my face, in my mouth, Sir, _please_ , I want it."

If it were possible for him to orgasm again in that moment, Keith knew those words have absolutely done him in.

Lance had never _begged for his cum_ like that before. That was - God, holy _fuck._

Keith allowed himself a moment to come completely down from his high, the toy still buried up to the hilt inside him. He listened to his sub's gorgeous voice and planned his next moves. Then, he stood on jelly legs, groaning in slight discomfort as he pulled the toy out.

Lance whimpered again, hearing the wet sounds of the dildo being removed from Keith's ass. Keith gave him a knowing smirk.

"Ready for yours, baby?" He murmured, crawling slowly onto the bed and stopping with his legs straddling Lance's thighs, the sub's dick standing tall and proud, front and center before him.

" _Yes,_ Sir," Lance nodded frantically. "Please, Sir, touch me. I need to cum. I need it so bad."

Keith wasted no time. He sunk his mouth around Lance, teasing for a moment with his tongue swirling around the head, before deepthroating the large cock. Lance cried out sharply when Keith buried his nose in the sub's pubes.

It had been a very, _very_ generous blessing from some deity above for the two of them to discover that Keith had practically no gag reflex. Lance was beginning to learn the art of deepthroating, too. He wasn't quite on his Dom's level yet, but he was getting pretty damn good at it, if Keith did say so himself.

" _Sir!_ " Lance shouted, hips bucking up wildly, as if it were even possible to fuck himself any further into Keith's mouth.

The Dom growled around him, earning another cry of pleasure, and brought his hands to press forcefully down on Lance's hips, keeping him pinned to the mattress. Even with his mouth too full to talk, the message was clear: _I'm in charge. Control yourself._

Before long, Keith pulled off of the other's dick with an obscene pop. Lance watched him, chest heaving.

"Please don't stop," Lance begged. "Please take the ring off, I need to cum. _Please_ , Sir, please."

"Hmm...I don't know," Keith said thoughtfully. His fingers traced lightly up and down his boy's thighs as he pretended to consider the request. "You think you've been good enough? Think you've made up for being so naughty today, touching yourself without asking?"

"Yes, Sir, I have. I've been so good for you, so good. _Please._ "

Keith gave him a soft smile. He leaned down to press several kisses to the head and the underside of Lance's dick with the sole intention of being a tease.

"Alright," he said finally, gently opening the metal ring to free him. "You can cum, Lance. I forgive you for breaking a rule. You did such a good job, watching me play, using your manners. Good job, baby."

"Thank you, Sir," Lance breathed, his relief and excitement palpable. "Please, please suck me, I need it. Thank you, thank you."

"You're so welcome, beautiful. Go ahead and cum for me."

Keith brought Lance back into his mouth, hollowing out his cheeks and sucking hard, meeting and holding the gaze of his sub when he caught Lance looking down to watch him through lidded eyes.

As suspected, it was less than a minute before Lance's writhing and moaning became an arched back, an open mouth. He felt all the muscles in his sub's body draw tight and begin to quake as he came, practically screaming through his pleasure.

" _Sir!_ " The sub sobbed. "Oh, God, _yes!_ Fu - _sh_ \- oh, _God!_ Yes, yes!"

Keith chuckled in amusement around Lance's cock at hearing him trying to fight the urge to scream expletives. The vibrations earned another sharp cry and a litany of _Sir's_ from Lance's mouth. Keith happily swallowed all of the hot cum hitting the back of his throat, sucking at the head to milk out every drop he could.

"God, _oh_ , yes," Lance continued to whimper quietly as he came back down from his orgasm, arched back falling limp against the mattress. "Keith...so good, oh my God...yes, babe, _yes_..."

Keith pulled off of his dick once more, breathing a little heavily himself. He watched in wonder, physically _seeing_ the cloud of blissful haze covering his lover's eyes as he slipped into subspace. He crawled up the bed to unhook the chain-esque restraints holding him in place.

"You liked that?" Keith whispered, knowing there was a chance Lance was already too deep in subspace to hear him, if the intensity of his orgasm was anything to go by. Lance did hear him, though, giving a soft hum of affirmation as his eyelids fluttered. "Mm. That ring's not so bad, after all, huh? Those are meant to keep you from going soft, you know. 'S why you came so hard."

Lance only hummed again, quieter and less interested than before. Keith laughed a little.

"Alright, sweetheart." He laid down on the bed next to his sub, rubbing his somewhat red wrists to soothe the marks left by the restraints. "I'll stop bothering you with all my boring facts and let you enjoy your subspace. Thank you for being so good for me. I love you."

Even _he_ could hear the undeniable adoration that his own voice was practically dripping with. He was so fucking whipped for Lance McClain (which was ironic, seeing as Doms were typically the ones who could be found holding a whip.)

Lance didn't respond again, which was no surprise, but he did release a soft sigh of content when Keith pulled him close, snuggling their naked forms together.

Keith didn't need to hear him return the _I love you._ There was no doubt in his mind. Not anymore.

He knew.


	84. big boys cry when their hearts are breaking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "What do you think the problem is?" Keith asked.
> 
> Shiro hesitated. "I think the problem is you've already lost one father, and now you're scared you're losing another - even though you're not."

"When do you leave?"

He interrupted the excited chattering of the other three at the table, interrupted Lance's smile and his _you'd better not meet aliens before I do, I'm first, I've got dibs._ They all went quiet, looking at Keith strangely.

He knew it wasn't because of the question he'd asked, but the way he'd asked it. His voice was hollow. Numb. His eyes were locked onto the surface of the table, avoiding three curious gazes.

"Uh - in June," Shiro said. "Don't worry. I'll be here for graduation."

Keith barked out an unimpressed laugh.

Him being there for graduation was the very last thing Keith was worried about.

The possibility of him never coming back was significantly more concerning. And the worst part was that nobody else seemed to see it, or mind it. Not even Shiro himself.

"Okay," Keith said, rising from his seat. "Cool. Whatever. I have homework."

Adam frowned. "Son, don't you think that can wait? This is a special moment. It would be nice if we could all share it with your father."

He couldn't hold it back anymore, then. He grit his teeth and the rage came bubbling up behind them, curling his tongue.

"Oh, yeah," Keith scoffed. "Him _abandoning us_ is a really special moment, Adam. That's great. Where's the fucking champagne?"

" _Keith_ ," Shiro scolded. He looked at his son as if he'd just grown three heads right before their eyes. "What on earth has gotten into you?"

"Does nobody else see how _stupid_ this is?" Keith roared, throwing his arms out at his sides. "You're not in any condition to be _going to space!_ Shiro, you could die!"

"His disease is still in the beginning stages, Keith," Adam said quietly. "There's no more risk to him than to the other members of the crew."

"And what's the risk to the other members of the crew?"

"Keith..." Lance's hand tugged at his, gently encouraging him to sit back down. Keith allowed his hand to be held so as to not hurt his sub's feelings, but he didn't heed the unspoken request.

"Very little," Shiro said firmly. His eyes were beginning to blaze, too. "Honestly, Keith. You know how important this is to me, and this money is going to put the two of you through college. Can't you be supportive?"

"No, I can't! I don't want blood money! You're going to get yourself killed!"

Adam's eyes flashed, and he snapped, "That is _enough,_ young man. Calm yourself down immediately, or leave the room until you have. This is completely unnecessary."

Keith took the invitation to flee without a second thought. His feet pounded up the stairs and the bedroom door slammed shut, two things he hadn't done in months and was ashamed to do again.

He knew he was being childish. He couldn't help it. Being abandoned wasn't a very nice feeling.

It was familiar, though. Very familiar.

He was lying belly-down on the bed with his face pressed into a pillow, taking deep breaths to steady himself, when there was a knock on the door.

Keith, fully expecting it to be his sub coming to curl up with him and draw out the truth with soft words and fingers in his hair, called out, "Come in."

The door opened. "Hey, buddy."

Shiro's voice was quiet, sad, and full of sympathy. Like he'd finally figured it out on his own. Keith hoped he had. He didn't want to explain it, and he didn't want to talk it through. He wanted Shiro to understand and let it be.

"Go away," Keith said, muffled into the pillow.

"You just told me to come in."

"I thought it was Lance."

There was silence for a moment. Then Shiro's heavy footsteps moved across the room and a weight settled on the edge of the mattress. His father's hand landed on his shoulder, warm and kind. Keith squeezed his eyelids tight and tried to pretend there weren't tears behind them.

"I think I know what your problem is," Shiro whispered. "I'm sorry, bud. I should have known this would be hard on you."

"What do you _think_ the problem is?" Keith asked.

Shiro hesitated. "I think the problem is you've already lost one father, and now you're scared you're losing another - even though you're not."

Keith gulped. His hands shook where they clenched the sides of the pillow. Shiro had just voiced the feelings he hadn't even been able to string into coherent thoughts. He didn't know to respond.

Thankfully, he didn't have to. Shiro continued: "You listen to me, Keith Kogane. I am _not_ abandoning you. Or Adam, or Lance. I'm going to come back. I would never leave you. Do you understand that? I couldn't even if I wanted to. I love you too damn much."

A few tears leaked soundlessly through his closed eyes and onto the pillow. Shiro must have seen them, because he began to make soft, woeful shushing sounds, a hand rubbing his son's back.

"Shh, _shh._ You don't have to be scared, kiddo. You have Lance, and Adam will be here at the house even after you guys leave. You're not alone, and _I am coming back._ "

It was difficult to believe. But he had to. Keith did not want to spend any longer contemplating the alternative.

"Okay," he whispered. "I love you, too."

"I know, buddy. I know."


	85. today i'm gonna love my enemies, reach out to somebody who needs me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You never told us what happened. You know...with that video your Dom's sub dad posted."
> 
> Lance paused, mouth partway open to respond.
> 
> It was his intention to rebuild a bridge that had accidentally been burned down. The truth was going to be a vital part of that. Lies were faulty and flimsy; they wouldn't make for a very stable walkway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am v sorry to inform y'all this is gonna be the last long chapter of hlp. like there are a couple more that are a little over 1k but none over 3k like this. and i highly doubt the sequel's chapters will ever be this long. it's gonna be a 352 chapter sequel (yowza amiright) so the chapters will rarely go over 1k and probably never over 1.5k. my adhd likes short chapters, both in writing and reading. sowwwwwyyyyyy :)
> 
> but ANYWAYS this is literally just 3k words of rekindling lost friendship and lots of sweet internal monologue about being in love, found family, and self worth.
> 
> (you thought i was gonna say it was literally just 3k words of smut again, didn't you? there's no more smut in any of the remaining chapters. get yo minds out of the gutter fam. smh!!)
> 
> enjoy!

The look on Hunk's face was one of pure fear as Lance approached their table. Lance smiled.

"Relax," he said. "I'm not here to bite your head off. I asked Keith to have lunch with Ad-uh, Professor Wyler in his office, so I can - you know - talk to you." Keith was reluctant, of course. But he knew there were some things Lance just had to do alone, and Lance was thankful for that. "I'm not gonna yell or anything."

"I know you're not," Hunk said, though it didn't sound convincing. "You never told us what happened. You know...with that video your Dom's sub dad posted."

Lance paused, mouth partway open to respond.

It was his intention to rebuild a bridge that had accidentally been burned down. The truth was going to be a vital part of that. Lies were faulty and flimsy; they wouldn't make for a very stable walkway.

"It's true. I was...raped. More than once," he said.

Hunk's face fell, but he didn't look surprised. He looked like he'd already known, already figured it out, and begun to come to terms with it. Like he'd only been clinging to some thread of hope that maybe he read the situation wrong.

Lance hurried to assure him. "Hunk - it's fine. Really. I'm doing a _lot_ better now. I'm okay."

Pidge looked between them. She must have known what was going on, seeing as she spent almost every waking moment with Lance's old friend. She likely just didn't want to get in the middle of something she hadn't had any part of in the first place. A mature choice for a fifteen year old. Lance was grateful. It was reassuring to know the people joining Shiro on Kerberos were related to someone like her.

"But you weren't," Hunk whispered, no longer meeting his eyes. "You _weren't_ okay. You were being abused, and I just left you. That's not cool."

Lance nodded.

"It's not," he agreed wholeheartedly. "You should have stuck by me. You should have asked me what was going on instead of assuming. I still wanted help at that point. I hadn't lost hope yet. I probably would have told you the truth, if you'd asked. And I would have been a lot better off if you had."

"I'm..." Hunk looked like he was about to cry. Lance felt a twinge of regret. He wasn't angry at all. He'd never been angry at Hunk. But, harsh as it was, this was still the truth, and the full truth was what he'd settled on for this conversation. "I'm _so_ sorry, Lance. I let you down, man. I don't know how you forgave me. I wouldn't have."

"Yes, you would have." Lance stated this like it, too, was a simple fact, because it was. "You're even more forgiving than me. You always have been. You would have been my friend again in a heartbeat, even if I didn't deserve it."

"I don't deserve it. Being your friend. And I understand that now. I'm so sorry."

Lance took a deep breath. He exhaled shakily through his nose, audibly, and glanced over again at Pidge.

There was a weird mix of emotions on her face. Lance could practically see her Dom instincts, which were only now beginning to kick in as she moved through her teens, cranking into gear. She wanted to protect her sub friend from the pain he was so clearly experiencing. But she was also smart enough to know that, sometimes, pain is justified. Necessary, even.

Pidge compromised. She reached across the table to lay a supportive hand on Hunk's, and offered Lance a brief, kind smile. Lance smiled back. She remained silent.

"I thought that, too," he said slowly. "Maybe you still don't. But...alright. Don't get me wrong, okay? I never wanted any of this to happen. I would go back and change it if I could. At the same time, though...I wouldn't have found Keith if it hadn't. Maybe we would have fallen together some other way, I don't know. But there _is_ a silver lining. And I'm alright now."

Hunk nodded, face downcast.

Lance went on. "Like I said - I'd still change it, if I could, even though I ended up getting some good things out of it. Nothing could make ever make being raped worthwhile, not even falling in love with the person who saved you. That was just a lucky coincidence."

Lance took a deep breath. That was almost a cathartic thing, admitting aloud to himself that he would have rather found Keith later in life and missed out on a few years, than to have found him in the aftermath of this youthful tragedy. Those words were spoken for himself. Not for Hunk.

He cut to the chase, finally. "But I was never mad at you, and I forgave you a long time ago. And...you know how I said I just needed some time?"

Hunk looked up hopefully, eyes glistening. "Yeah?"

It was an odd thing, meeting his gaze again.

It was the same way they once met eyes, Lance wearing a shit-eating grin and Hunk looking uncertain and queasy, just before they embarked on another daring, rule-shattering adventure.

The way they met eyes when Lance convinced Hunk into watching a horror movie he knew perfectly well would terrify his friend.

The way they met eyes when a teacher went off on a rampage about some prank or another somebody had pulled, and they shared a knowing glance, Hunk finally looking like he thought these adventures weren't always so bad, after all.

Lance suddenly had a great burst of nostalgia for days that really weren't so far in the past, but felt like they came from a different lifetime entirely. He wanted that back. It was hard to believe they'd barely been friends for a month before it all came crashing down. It felt like they'd known each other forever. It was like a platonic remix of falling for Keith, fast and hard, without warning.

He missed his best friend. He really did. _So_ much. Which was why he said what he said next.

"I've had the time I asked for. Plenty of it. Things are a lot better for me now, you know? Like... _way_ better. And I..." Lance smiled again. This smile was forgiveness and bittersweetness and the love of unofficial brothers, all rolled into one. "I think I'm ready now. To be your friend again. If you want to be, that is."

Of course he knew Hunk wanted to be. The way his entire being lit up at the offer was proof enough.

It was nice to know he'd been missed, Lance thought. This made it okay - almost, not totally, but a little bit - that his family didn't miss him. Because this reassured Lance that the problem therein lied with them, and not him. Other people missed him when he was not around.

He was _worth_ missing. It wasn't his fault if some people couldn't see that. Alexander McClain was the one losing something in his and Lance's scenario, not him. What Alexander lost, Lance gained tenfold.

And now Hunk gained it, too.

"Of course I do," Hunk whispered, sounding a bit choked with emotion. He rose from the table and went to pull Lance into a hug.

Lance began to open his arms, still grinning, fully ready to accept it. Then Hunk hesitated.

"Can I..." Hunk stuttered, arms dropping a little. "I mean - is it okay if I hug you? Man, I probably shouldn't go around touching you without asking, that's not a great idea, is it? It's okay if you don't want a hug, that's totally fine, dude - "

The other sub blinked in surprise when Lance began to laugh at him.

"Thanks for asking," Lance said through his mirth. "It's nice that you thought about it. But I meant it when I said I'm doing better. You can hug me literally whenever you want."

Then Hunk was grinning, too. He wrapped Lance in a bear hug, lifting the much smaller boy a good few inches off the floor with the embrace.

Lance had forgotten how _awesome_ Hunk's hugs were.

Not as good as Keith's hugs, of course, because he was fairly certain nobody could do _anything_ better than his imperfectly perfect, beautiful Keith Kogane. Even though his Dom was smaller than him in stature, his hugs were all-encompassing, wrapping every bit of Lance up in love and safety.

Hunk's hugs, though - they sent warmth throughout his entire body. They screamed unconditional acceptance. They were the epitome of friendship.

"Thanks, man," Hunk whispered near his head. "I don't know what I did to deserve a friend as cool as you. You're the best."

Lance countered with yet another fact of life. They seemed to be spilling out of him these days. He had no idea when he'd gotten so wise, but he wasn't complaining. "You don't have to do anything to deserve friendship. That's why it's friendship. People just give it to you because they want to, not because you earned it."

It was the same way love worked.

These words, modified, were the same ones he'd been saying to Keith as of late. They were the reassurances he whispered when he came out of subspace and discovered that thirty minutes alone with his own thoughts was not a good place for Keith to be. He whispered them when he could see those storm clouds beginning to roll back in over his Dom's eyes.

_You don't have to earn me, Keith. You deserve me because I want you. I deserve you because you want me. That's all love is; it's so simple. You're worth it because you're you. You're flawed and you're messy and you're the only you in the entire universe, and I love you. I love you. I love you._

It was similar to the things Keith, as well as Shiro and Adam, had been saying to Lance all along. The things they'd had to repeat with unfailing stamina for months on end until he finally began to believe them.

_You're beautiful,_ Keith told him every day, even still. _You're worth it. You're worth the entire universe. You deserve everything. I love you._

_You deserve to feel safe,_ his in-laws used to assure him, back when he'd still needed to hear it to believe it. _You deserve to live a long life, to be healthy, to be happy. Please don't give up on us. We love you._

To realize he had the opportunity to pass these things on was like taking a breath of fresh air. He could pass this love and this wisdom of self-worth on to Keith. He could pass forgiveness for a bad mistake on to Hunk. He could pass hope on to the entire universe, if he wanted to (and he did want to.)

Hunk sniffled against his shoulder. Lance felt his own eyes growing wet, too, just a little, though no real tears ever formed.

He had a lover, one he would keep for life. He had a family - a _real_ one. And now he had a friend.

Actually, judging by the way Pidge was looking at them with a sparkle of support and pride shining in her eyes - maybe he actually had two friends. An old one back, and a new one to get to know.

Even better.

Everything was falling into place, just like he and Keith and Adam and Shiro had been assuring each other that it would all along, taking turns picking each other up from the ground and brushing the dirt off of one another's shoulders.

Lance had doubted, of course. Sometimes he felt like he doubted more than he believed. But he didn't doubt anymore. He had no reason to.

He was healing. He was mostly healed. Keith was beginning to heal, too - Lance knew his Dom still had a long ways to go to recover from years of neglected mental health, but that was okay. If Lance could bounce back, then certainly Keith could, too.

Shiro was finally getting his lifelong dream. His mind led his hands to act and his actions churned that dream into a reality, unfolding before him. Adam was happy to see his sub happy, though he was surely going to miss him. It filled Lance with an indescribable peace to see the somewhat bittersweet pride in Adam's gaze nowadays when he looked at Shiro. He hoped that would be him and Keith one day. Supporting each other with held hands and unconditional belief.

Lance could breath again where there used to be no oxygen. The ice around his life and his heart were melting despite the cold weather outside. All this warmth surrounding him was no match for the biting winter winds.

He was thawing.

"We should go see a movie this weekend," Pidge suggested, and Lance realized his and Hunk's little hugfest had likely gone on far too long for her comfort as a bored bystander. "Like, the four of us. Catch up. There's this rad new robot-zombie shit out that I really wanna see, but it's rated R and my mom won't take me. But since two of you are _technically_ adults and can therefore _technically_ get me in..."

The two subs pulled away, both laughing a little. Hunk wiped at his eyes, still grinning ear to ear.

"That sounds awesome," Lance told her honestly. "Keith wanted to see that, too."

"You didn't?" Hunk asked, tilting his head. "I thought you loved horror movies."

Lance smirked. "I loved them because you hated them."

Hunk sputtered indignantly. "But you knew all the lines! You didn't flinch at any of the jump scares! You were, like, a rock!"

"I have four older siblings, dude, what do you expect? Classic horror movies have been ingrained in my memory. You're seriously telling me you never did crap like that to your little brothers and sisters?"

"No! Because I'm a good big brother. A nice big brother. And if they have nightmares because of something I did, guess whose bed my parents are gonna tell them to go crawl into? That's right, mine."

Lance laughed. "Marco didn't mind me cuddling with him when I was little. I think that was actually the goal sometimes. He thought he was too much of a macho-teen-Dom to actually _ask_ his five year old brother for a hug, so he just scared me to death instead. Brotherly love, you know?"

Hunk smiled. It was nice to talk again, to share stories and memories like friends should. Then it faded into a worried frown. He looked at Lance with wide eyes.

"Wait...the four of us?" Hunk looked between him and Pidge. His fingers twisted together nervously. "So, like...your Dom's gonna be there? Keith? He's coming?"

He looked like the reality of that had just now hit him. It was no secret that Keith didn't care much for Hunk, what with his rabidly overprotective nature over Lance from anybody who had ever hurt him, even emotionally, even just a little, even unintentionally.

Lance knew it would be fine, though. Keith was an absolute sucker for seeing Lance smile and hearing him laugh, for seeing him let loose and have fun and enjoy what little was left of his fleeting childhood. He would forgive Hunk the second he saw how happy it made his sub to have his friend back. He would not dare hold a grudge against a person Lance professed to love.

Lance offered him a reassuring smile. "Yeah, but don't worry. You'll get used to him."

Pidge laughed out loud at the uncertain, mildly frightened expression on Hunk's face. She slid out of her seat and picked up Hunk's tray and trash as well as her own in a show of Dom-like chivalry.

Lance didn't know much about this girl, but he knew at once that he liked her.

Any Dom who had been raised the same way Shiro and Adam raised Keith, with protective urges in their veins and kindness on their fingertips, could not be anything but a good person.

"Okay, but, like, is he gonna rip my head off or something?" Hunk continued to fret as the three strolled out of the cafeteria together. Lance patted his back in an almost mocking way. "I mean - he doesn't punch people anymore, does he? Please tell me he doesn't punch people anymore. Cause he's got, like, really tough hands, and that would probably hurt a lot."

Lance agreed that Keith had very tough hands, though he _definitely_ thought of their strength in a much more positive light than Hunk did (his ass, still red and stinging in the best way from that morning's activities, was proof enough.)

It wasn't just about strength in their bedroom, though. That barely scraped the surface.

They were also strong in the sense that they were trustworthy. That they held him still and steady when, every now and again, Lance had a panic attack, which did still happen from time to time. That they protected him from any force of evil that might want to bring him harm.

Keith's hands were soft, too, when he wanted them to be. Soft, kind, caring, always looking to help. And not just Lance. Keith's hands looked to help others in need, too.

To pay for a stuffed toy in full when a struggling mother fell just a few cents short, like Lance had watched Keith do this past holiday season. To help an eldery man having trouble opening a door while holding onto his walker. To pick up fallen books and papers for a girl who looked like she was having a terrible day when she dropped all her stuff in the busy halls.

His Dom's hands were a perfect, active, visible metaphor for his heart. Once you cracked open the deceiving shell, there was nothing but love and compassion inside.

_God,_ he loved him. So much.

"Chill," Lance laughed at his friend now. These memories made it so much more amusing, the thought of anybody being _scared_ of the giant teddy bear that was Keith Kogane. "He's not gonna punch a sub. And he wouldn't punch another Dom anymore, either, unless they were hurting someone. He knows it would piss me off. He's not gonna risk me not putting out for a week just for a ten-second adrenaline rush."

"His death glares, though. Are those still on the table? Those are super scary."

"...they might be."

"Oh, _geez_."

Pidge laughed hysterically. Lance smirked, too, and offered a falsely sympathetic nod.

It was nice to have friends again. It really was.


	86. today i'm gonna try a little harder, gonna make every minute last longer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I love you. I do. Just...give me a call, please.
> 
> BEEP. Message over. Would you like to play it again? Press okay to...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i didn't realize lance actually has 2 brothers in canon instead of 1 and was luckily informed of this just before posting this chapter, so i had to go back and add Luis's name in. OOPS. at least i caught it
> 
> enjoy!

_I just miss you, Lance. I want to know how you're doing. I want to hear about your school, and your new friends. All of it._

_I know you got out. I know you're probably doing better away from...him. Just don't forget that he's not the only one you're running from. There are still people here who miss you. Who love you._

_I love you. I do. Just...give me a call, please._

_BEEP. Message over. Would you like to play it again? Press okay to..._

He had to swallow back a lump of emotion rising in his throat as he pulled the phone away from his ear. His eyes burned.

His fingers hovered over the button to delete the message, then hesitated. He let Veronica's call go to voicemail mostly because he was in a shocked stupor, staring open-mouthed at the buzzing graviphone in his hand. He was glad he didn't answer it. He wasn't ready to talk to his family again.

But he didn't want to delete the message. Lance really did miss her. He missed her, and he missed Rachel, Marco, Luis, Luis's kids - and his mother, too. Especially his mother.

Hearing Veronica's voice again felt _so_ nice. It felt like all the good memories from his childhood, warm and humming in his chest. It felt like coming home after school to find his father was away on another business trip, and they were momentarily free. He didn't want to let that go.

So Lance didn't delete it. He turned off the phone instead. Partially out of fear that she might try to call again.

The courtyard was nearly empty when he lifted his head. A few students mulled about. The afternoon sun was high in the sky. And there, across the grass, Keith was walking toward him.

"Hey, babe. I was looking for you. You ready to go?" Keith leaned forward against Lance's legs where the sub sat on a relatively high brick wall, putting him another good few inches above Keith than he normally was when standing.

Keith wrapped his arms around Lance's waist and nuzzled into his chest. He wasn't much for PDA, unlike Lance, but there were few enough people around that he didn't seem to mind. He stood up on his toes to press an open-mouthed kiss to Lance's collarbone, the silver  _K_ charm on the sub's collar jingling when Keith's forehead brushed it.

Lance placed a hand on Keith's shoulder, gently pushing him away.

"Please stop," he said quietly. "I'm not in the mood."

He should have known better than to say as much. These words washed an immediate, intense concern over his Dom's face, and he knew Keith was going to press for an answer Lance wasn't ready to give.

Keith leaned back a little. His arms around Lance's waist became hands resting lightly on his hips, grounding him. Lance closed his eyes for a moment and revelled in the more innocent touch.

"What's wrong?" Keith asked with an edge of panic. "Is somebody bothering you? Lance, please open your eyes and look at me. If something's wrong, I want to help. Do you not feel good? Are you tired?"

The stream of questions normally would have soothed Lance a little. Keith did that a lot, asking a million things as if he'd eventually land on the right one and Lance would have no choice but to confess. It was his own weird way of showing he cared.

The questions didn't make Lance feel better today. They aggravated him to no end. He just wanted Keith to either shut up and hold his hand or leave him the hell alone.

"Stop," he snapped before he could think too thoroughly about his choice. "I'm _fine,_ Keith, can you just cut it out? It's fine. God, you can be so _annoying_ sometimes."

Lance snapped his eyes open, burning with annoyance and frustration. Those feelings were soon gone when he saw Keith's face. The guilt was immediate.

The guilt of breaking a rule and disrespecting his Dom was mild. Snapping at him a little was not all that bad of a crime, and they both knew it. It wasn't a strong enough guilt that he would despair if it were left to fester without punishment for a few hours. It was more like a background bother, a fly buzzing in his ear.

But it wasn't the sub guilt that made Lance's chest feel sharp with pain. It was the universal, normal, human guilt.

Because Keith looked _hurt._ His face fell, eyes wide and unbelieving. His jaw clenched, but not in angry way - more like he was trying not to cry. He swallowed harshly.

Lance felt like a total dick. He _was_ being a total dick, and he knew it. Here he sat, knowing full-well his lover had been struggling with self-worth (and making great strides of progress in it.) Yet he chose to drag him back down the ladder by making sure he knew how annoying he was.

Except Keith wasn't annoying. He worried a lot. He worried because he cared. Sometimes that was expressed in the form of word-vomit. Which, yes, was a habit that could be bothersome at times, but that didn't make _Keith_ a bother.

Lance was such a tool. A really big, rusty, mean tool.

"Keith..." He whispered, hoping the sheen of wetness glistening over his eyes did a good enough job of expressing his regret. He placed two gentle hands on either side of his mate's face. Keith winced a little at the touch, but he didn't pull away, nor did he break eye contact. "I'm _so_ sorry. I didn't mean that, babe. I love you, you know I do. I'm just...not having a great afternoon."

Anybody who ever said forgiveness was not in Keith's nature could kiss Lance's ass. His face smoothed out in an instant. He offered a small, hesitant smile that looked a little too forced.

"It's fine," he said. "I know you didn't. I'm sorry you're having a rough day, beautiful."

"I _really_ didn't mean it, okay? I didn't. Not at all."

"I know," Keith repeated. His smile grew a little more real, and Lance breathed a sigh of relief. Keith turned his head to the side just enough to kiss one of the palms resting on his jaw. "And it's _really_ okay. I mean - except for the whole disrespecting me and breaking a rule thing. That part's not okay."

Lance winced. "Um. Yeah. Sorry."

"We'll talk about it later." Keith shook his head. "I wanna know what's got you so upset first."

"I really don't want to get into it."

Keith pursed his lips into a thin line. He looked like the last thing he wanted to do was let it go. He chose to trust Lance, anyway, and nodded reluctantly.

Probably because Lance was clearly in a bad mood and he didn't want to be yelled at again. Whatever. That was fine. Whatever got him to stop asking. Lance could more than make up for hurting his feelings later, in the privacy of their own bedroom.

For now, he was done talking. He had a lot of thinking to do. This was one problem he did not want to work through out loud.

"Alright," Keith sighed loudly. Intentionally dramatic, with a teenage girl's eye roll to punctuate. He must have known the ridiculous sight would make Lance giggle like it did, because he smirked triumphantly at the sound. "Come on, then. Adam's making fish tacos and I am _not_ going to let him throw a bunch of cayenne on them this time. We have to be there to stop this monstrosity."

"Won't thou help the damsel down, fair prince?"

He tightened his grip on Lance's hips, grunting at the weight as he lifted his sub a little to help him slide down off the wall.

"How did you even get up there? Use your magic hair to get down next time," Keith grumbled in joking complaint. "I'm not climbing any damn tower for you. _Geez,_ you're heavy."

Lance scoffed. "I'm not heavy, you just have short arms. You're like a T-Rex or something."

Keith laughed out loud at that. Lance grinned back, thankful his Dom so quickly got over being unjustly snapped at. He knew Keith wouldn't have let it go so easily for anybody else.

That voicemail continued to plague his mind as they began their trek home, intertwined hands swinging between them in time with their steps. Veronica's voice, pleading just to _talk_ to him, weighed even heavier on his heart throughout the rest of the evening.

He never deleted the voicemail. He didn't call her back, either.

Lance didn't know what he was supposed to do. He hadn't felt so helpless in such a long time. He'd gotten used to being protected, to being held up, to holding himself up on occasion. He hadn't realized how badly being lost in an ocean of uncertainty actually _hurt_ until he was tossed back into it, long after adjusting to life in the warm sand. It was not a pleasant feeling.

It was not a very pleasant feeling at all.


	87. (make a change make the world a better place because) tomorrow could be one day too late

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This never happened anymore. It was cruel for a nightmare to terrorize him now, after over a month without one. He supposed that was just how the healing process worked; not every night could be a good night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter has some MILD implied sexual content, but no smut. my smut-dislikers are safe with this one
> 
> there's another panic attack, though, so that's a thing
> 
> enjoy his pain! i know you all love the langst soooo much, aren't you so thankful i write so much of it for you?
> 
> :)

Lance lay wide awake when the alarm clock read fifteen past one in the morning, trying desperately to calm his own breathing before he woke his mate.

It was a difficult thing to do. He couldn't take the deep breaths he needed to in order to properly work himself down from this panic attack. If he did, the heaving of his chest and the wooshing of air would wake the sweet Dom cuddled up so nicely to him with an arm draped over his waist.

He didn't want to do that. Keith was exhausted from a long week of tests and staying up late submitting college applications before their deadlines, and he was already in the deeper stages of sleep. He needed to rest.

_God._ Lance really couldn't breath. It was difficult enough to keep the tears rolling down his face silent. Containing his hyperventilation was, in fact, only worsening said hyperventilation.

This never happened anymore. It was cruel for a nightmare to terrorize him now, after over a month without one. He supposed that was just how the healing process worked; not every night could be a good night.

This nightmare was unlike any he'd ever had. This nightmare was his family, gruesomely murdered. His family, rising from the dead to blame Lance. His family, surrounding him, shouting their unabashed hatred.

And Keith.

Keith, taking his family's side, arms crossed and head shaking in disapproval as he told Lance he didn't want him anymore. Confessed that he'd _never_ wanted him, that he regretted ever claiming him in the first place.

Keith, leaving him.

Lance gasped sharply once, twice, three times, unable to contain it. He needed _air._

_No, no, no._

It wasn't real. It wasn't real. It wasn't real.

And, as it turned out, it wasn't his own panicking that woke Keith. It was Keith who began to rouse himself.

He must have been having another type of dream entirely. He pressed into Lance where he spooned him from behind, groaning in what sounded like a very far cry from discomfort. His hips rocked a few times into the small of his sub's back, and he groaned even louder.

Lance saw an opportunity, and he jumped on it. Almost literally.

He nudged Keith's shoulder so that his half-awake lover laid on his back and clambered to straddle his mate's hips. He waited a moment for Keith's eyes to flutter open before leaning down to capture his Dom's mouth in a bruising kiss. It was all teeth and tongues clashing harshly, Keith's face held tight in his hands, as if he could breathe in somebody else's air instead.

" _Lance,_ " Keith moaned when they pulled away, now very much awake. "Good boy, my good boy."

Lance didn't want praises or any other words. His chest ached. All he wanted was to lose himself in something that was not emotional, something that was primal and required little to no thought, and pray that the distance from his own feelings would help him breathe a little easier.

He just wanted to forget.

They remained like this for less than a minute, practically attacking one another with hungry, rabid kisses and roaming hands. Then Keith brought his hands up from Lance's thighs to cradle his face instead.

He must have felt the saltwater remaining there. He separated their mouths with a sharp gasp the second his fingers made contact. Lance mentally cursed himself for not thinking to wipe the tears away.

Keith sat up quickly, hands on Lance's waist to keep him from falling out of his lap, and pulled him into a tight hug.

" _Shit_. Lance, come here. Come here. I've got you."

Lance heaved jagged sobs into his shoulder.

All he wanted was to forget, to distract himself, and now he wouldn't be allowed to and it was no use for Keith to try and be a gentleman like this because it didn't help anything at all because Lance still couldn't _breathe oh God please I justwantobreathe._

"Keith," he cried, muffled by warm flesh. "P-please just kiss me. Just touch me, I don't want to talk about it, I don't wanna think. _Please._ I can't breathe. I can't b-breathe."

" _Shhh._ No, Lance. That's the last thing you need right now. Why didn't you tell me you were having an attack?"

Lance shook his head frantically.

"I can't breathe, I c-can't _breathe._ "

"Lance, _hey._ Just listen to me. Listen to my voice. Listen to my heart - you hear that? I promise you can breathe, sweet boy. You can. Breathe with me, nice and easy."

He tried. He tried, and he failed.

"There you go. Good job, beautiful, you're doing so well. See? There's plenty of air. You can breathe just fine. _Shhh._ "

Lance knew the praise was meant only to soothe him. He wasn't actually doing a good job. He was struggling to follow along with the movement of the other's chest pressed against his, and he was falling behind.

The words were a bigger help this time than the demonstration. Keith's voice murmured in his ear, dripping like honey, slowing down the entire too-fast-can't-see-can't-think world around them. It sent warmth and comfort spreading throughout his body, and Lance began to think that maybe he was actually wrong.

This did help more than throwing himself into sex for the sake of ignoring the problem. This helped a lot more.

Keith always knew, somehow. He knew what Lance needed in any given moment better than Lance did himself. Where Lance got it wrong, Keith always, _always_ got it right.

That thought was what finally allowed him to relax his lungs, breathing deeper and fuller. Lance melted against Keith, giving away any and all power to his Dom, who knew exactly how to make him feel better. Who would do it the _right_ way.

Lance realized it was foolish to believe, even for a moment, that Keith's role in his nightmare held any truth. Of course he wasn't going to leave him. Of course he was sticking around. He'd done more than enough to prove it.

But the other people in the dream - his family, angry, even the ones who once loved him deeply growing a fiery hatred...

That part was a lot harder to dissuade. Mostly because he had never been given any concrete reason to believe it couldn't happen.

"It hurts," Lance whispered, digging his nose into the crook where Keith's neck met his shoulder. His sobs and gasps were turning gradually into hitching breaths with a few silent tears. "It hurts. I don't know what to do. Sir, please tell me what to do."

Keith's embrace tightened. Lance felt his Dom's lashes flutter against his own cheek, like he was blinking something out of his eyes.

"What do you need Sir's help with, sweetheart?" Keith asked in a whisper, sounding a little emotional himself. One of his hands came up to stroke through Lance's mussed hair. "You have to tell me what's wrong, or I can't do anything. Is it the same thing that made you get angry at me today? Please, just tell me. Let me help."

"Veronica left m-me a message." Lance's breath hitched, and the post-crying hiccups began to kick in. "She wants to talk to me. I don't know what to do, Sir. Just tell me what I'm supposed to do."

Keith was quiet for a long time, only shushing with his voice and soothing with his hands. Lance relaxed, closed his eyes, and waited.

"I can't answer that for you," he said after a while. Lance was overtaken by another, albeit smaller wave of despair. He _needed_ Keith to answer that for him, because he couldn't, and somebody had to. "It's up to you. Do you want to talk to her?"

"That's the problem." Another hiccup. "I don't know."

"Then just...think about it. You don't have to decide right away, Lance. You can take your time. If she rushes you, then she doesn't really care about how you feel. She still lives there; she knows what he's like. She should understand."

Lance nodded and pressed a thankful kiss to Keith's neck.

He didn't have any more clarity than he'd had that afternoon - but now he had support, and maybe that was enough. He was thankful Keith was willing to sit awake with him in the middle of the night to provide it.

"Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir."

"You're so welcome, sweet boy. I'm sorry you're hurting. It hurts me, too, when you're not okay. Is there anything else I can do?"

"Hold me. Don't let go. Just hold me."

"Always." Keith pulled back just enough to press a chaste, closed-mouth kiss to Lance's lips, innocent and comforting. "You don't even have to ask for that. _Always._ "

Lance still didn't know. He had absolutely no clue what the right answer here was.

That was okay. He had Keith, and he believed in the promise that he always would.

For tonight, always would have to be enough.


	88. like sand through an hourglass (time passes by, can't erase, can't rewind)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So it didn't feel like three and a half months. It felt like three seconds. But that was okay.
> 
> Maybe three seconds was all they needed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it is almost over.
> 
> i  
> am  
> cry.

To Lance, the three and a half months that passed between Veronica's call and graduation did not feel like three and a half months.

He blinked, and they were gone.

A thousand new memories, each one beautiful in it's own right, engrained in his mind forever.

It felt like three seconds.

* * *

"Oh, geez. There's the death glare. See, Lance? I told you he still hates me, but did you listen? _Nooo._ "

"We've been over this, like, five times, man. He doesn't hate you. I will _literally_ eat my sock in the middle of this theater for you stop saying he hates you. Now would you just - "

"Oh, shh, _shh!_ Here he comes! Just play it cool, act natural - stay calm!"

"...Hunk. He's my Dom. He sees me naked as often as he sees me in clothes. He's thrown up on me - _twice._ I promise you, I could not possibly be any more calm than I am right now."

"... _aaaannnd_ now we're the friends of the guy who's hiding behind a potted plant. The expert in playing it cool."

"I mean, it's _natural._ "

"Oh! It is, isn't it? 'Cause, you know, _plants_ \- "

"Pidge! _Shh!_ "

* * *

"I can't look, I can't look. Just open it."

"Lance, it's an acceptance letter, not a million dollars."

"You don't know it's an acceptance letter! You haven't even opened it!"

"Why would they accept you and not me?"

" _Keith!_ "

"Okay, okay, _chill._ I'm opening it, gosh. Are you happy?"

"Yes, actually."

Fingers click on the notepad. The message is opened. There is a long silence.

"...Keith? What does it say?"

A breathless laugh. He can hear the smile.

"I got in."

* * *

"She still hasn't responded."

He is wrapped in familiar arms, warm and kind.

"I'm sorry."

"She's my sister, you know? And she's the one who asked. I just thought..."

"I know. I'm sorry, sweetheart. It's okay."

"I thought she'd _want_ to see me graduate."

"Maybe she's just been busy."

"Yeah. Maybe."

He knows she hasn't. She isn't coming. Somehow, for some reason, she changed her mind.

Maybe she didn't really want to connect again in the first place. Maybe she never will. 

He is learning to be okay with that.

* * *

The busy sounds of a waiting room at five in the evening on a Tuesday in early May.

The smell of antiseptic, burning his nose.

His Dom is not steady, not calm, so he cannot be, either.

Fear. Trembling, all-encompassing fear.

" _Adam!_ Adam - where is he? What's going on?"

A hitched breath. A slow exhale. "He's okay now, boys. Calm down. It's alright."

"What the fuck _happened?_ "

"His bracelets malfunctioned during zero-G training. He...he had a seizure."

"...is he gonna be okay?"

"Yes. It wasn't the disease itself - they checked. It hasn't gotten any worse. They said he should have had his bracelets upgraded a long time ago. These ones were recalled. They're supposed to _prevent_ seizures, but his just...stopped working. I just - we didn't know. I didn't know."

"This wasn't your fault, Adam."

"I know. I...yes. I know."

"Is he still going on the mission?"

"What, you actually think we could talk him out of it?"

Three laughs, soft, hesitant.

"Yes. He's still going, boys. These new bracelets should function perfectly, and he's taking two extra pairs with him, just in case."

A son's head, leaning on a father's shoulder. A lover's head in the lap of the son.

"He's okay. Everything will be okay."

* * *

" _Lance._ "

Hot breath huffed against his shoulder blades, fingers in his hair, his own heart pounding hard enough that he can hear it.

"My sweet boy."

Teeth on his neck, scraping the edge of the collar as they dig in.

"So good for me. So good."

_There._ Yes, yes, God, right there. A series of shouts pulled from his mouth that he can't control, but he doesn't mind it.

"I love you."

An explosion that is only his to feel, blinding and familiar.

Real. Warm. Safe.

_Keith._

"Keith."

* * *

"How many kids do you want?"

"Hmm...eight."

"...oh, _fuck_  no."

He laughs. He laughs, and laughs, and laughs.

"Aw, come on! Why not? It would be fun!"

"You're out of your goddamn _mind,_ Lance McClain, you are batshit insane if you really think - "

"You would never be bored!"

"Yeah, and I'd never fucking sleep, either!"

They settle on four.

(He plans to bargain for five.)

* * *

So it didn't feel like three and a half months. It felt like three seconds. But that was okay.

Maybe three seconds was all they needed.


	89. would you lie with me and just forget the world?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I'm yours, even when I'm out there. It doesn't matter if I'm right beside you, or across the galaxy, or a thousand lightyears away. I'm always yours."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ffFFFFNNJHHHHHH
> 
> it'S aLmOsT oVeR
> 
> *screams into the abyss*

The world was peaceful and still when he left the white-nothing-bliss of subspace behind. He sighed and stretched in utter content, waiting for the last of the haze to clear.

At some point, Adam had clothed him in sweatpants and socks, leaving his torso bare (because he damn well knew his sub would never sleep in a shirt.) Shiro smiled, blinked slowly, and turned his head to search.

Adam was sitting on the edge of his side of the bed, nightstand drawer open. He smiled back when he caught his sub's eye.

"Hey, sleeping beauty," Adam whispered. "Took you long enough."

Shiro swatted playfully at his arm. "Shuddup. However long I take is just long enough, _thank_ you very much."

Adam's smile widened a little. "You were in subspace for almost an hour. Got a lot on your mind?"

It was a ridiculous question. Shiro shot him a deadpan look.

"Well, tomorrow our babies graduate, next week I'm going to yeet myself into space, and then I'm gonna spend twelve months collecting ice samples and secretly hoping the frozen pee we eject from the ship will somehow be found by friendly aliens, so, yeah. I guess you could say I've got a lot on my mind."

"...seriously?"

"Kind of. About the kids graduating and yeeting myself into space parts, at least."

"Why do you keep saying 'yeet'? What does that even _mean?_ "

"It's a meme."

Adam blinked. "A who now?"

Shiro laugh loudly enough that he had to throw a hand over his mouth to avoid waking the boys.

" _Oh my God,_ Adam. I was claimed by an old man, I swear. Just - ask Lance."

"Is he going to be annoyed at you for redirecting me?"

"Oh, absolutely."

"Then I will definitely ask him."

They were both laughing, then. Shiro sat up, scooting across the bed to wrap his arms around Adam from behind and press lips against a warm, dark shoulder.

It was then that he caught sight of Adam's hands, and the reason for the open drawer. He was holding the small box Shiro's collar was stored in. He had folded it up nicely like he always did to stow it away for next time.

Shiro placed a hand on his Adam's wrist just as he was putting the lid back on, stopping him. It was Adam's turn to give him an unimpressed look.

"I am _way_ too tired for round two, love," he said warily. Shiro huffed in amusement.

"Uh, same here," he said. "But I want to wear it anyway. Is that okay?"

The expression on Adam's face was one of pleasant surprise. He almost looked - _touched._

Shiro had forgotten, after all these years of sparing the collar for private use in interest of his career, how much it actually used to mean to Adam. How much his mate cherished him wearing it.

"Oh," Adam said, blinking a little when his eyes grew misty. "Of course you can, love. If you want to. I would - I would love that."

Shiro smiled. He leaned further over Adam's shoulder to capture his mouth in a kiss, tender and sweet.

"I would, too," he breathed against his lover's lips. "I know it made you happy when I used to wear it all the time. Showed the world who I belong to. And - you know what?"

Shiro took the box from his hands. He handled the old collar, fabric worn with the silver color fading in spots but still beautiful as ever, like it was absolutely priceless. Adam gulped.

"What?" He whispered. His shaking fingers came up to fasten the collar around his sub's neck while he waited for a response.

"I'm not just going to show the world, now. I'm gonna show the entire damn universe. I'm _yours,_ even when I'm out there. It doesn't matter if I'm right beside you, or across the galaxy, or a thousand lightyears away. I'm always yours."

With no warning, Adam pulled him into a crushing hug that knocked the wind out of them both, sniffling near his ear.

Shiro had no grievance with it. The charm on his collar jingled as he raised his arms to accept the embrace. He held Adam back just as tight.


	90. forgive, forget, we don't have long, make the most of it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, he would have sooner expected Martians to crash-land on the doorstep of the Shirogane-Wyler household. Or an actual, literal stork to drop a bundled baby from the sky. Or...something equally as improbable.

"Does this look like a wrinkle to you? It looks like a wrinkle to me!"

"Lance, calm down, bud, I promise it looks fine. Keith, I swear to God, don't you touch that ketchup bottle! Why do you even need ketchup? I made eggs!"

"It's not like we're wearing the robes _now!_ "

"Yes, but you're wearing a nice shirt, son. Just do as your father says, please."

" _Gah!_ Eating eggs without ketchup...you _freaks._ "

"Shiro, there is! Look, right here. I swear, it's wrinkled, right by the hem - look at that crease - "

"Okay, do we _really_ have to - alright, _fine_ , Lance, bring it here, let me see - "

The chaos should have been interrupted by the doorbell ringing, but it wasn't. The bell chimed and the noise carried on just the same. Lance, for one, was significantly more concerned about his poor, wrinkled shirt.

"Takashi, love, are we expecting anyone?"

"Little busy ironing nonexistant wrinkles over here!"

"Dude, it's _right_ there!"

"Can I use mustard?"

" _No!_ "

"...okay. Guess I'll answer it, then."

Lance had only just finished putting his freshly unwrinkled shirt back on, smiling sheepishly at Shiro's, _is this better, your majesty?_ when Adam came around the corner, face a shade too pale.

"Lance?" Adam said quietly. "There's, uh...there's somebody at the door for you."

* * *

Honestly, he would have sooner expected Martians to crash-land on the doorstep of the Shirogane-Wyler household. Or an actual, literal stork to drop a bundled baby from the sky. Or...something equally as improbable.

His brain, which had been churning all morning with the anticipation of graduation day, was now running miraculously dry. Because -

" _Veronica_ ," he breathed.

His sister looked up at him with glistening eyes. It was an entirely new emotion on her. He'd never seen her as anything but unfailingly strong.

The first thing she said was not his name, nor a greeting. It was a strangled, "I'm sorry."

She practically threw herself at him, then, holding him in a tight hug. Lance didn't return the embrace. His own arms hung awkward at his sides.

"I'm sorry I didn't - that I never answered," she continued, muffled into his shirt.

Lance blinked back tears. His mouth remained partially open; he wanted to respond, but he wasn't sure _how._

She'd abandoned him. Abandoned him and then showed up at his home, two months later, hugging him and asking for forgiveness.

Was he wrong to still feel angry? How was he _supposed_ to feel?

A memory of Keith's voice echoed in his head. _It's up to you._

It was up to him. He could forgive her, or he could push her away so that she, too, would know how it felt. He could take the high road or hit her where it hurt. It was up to him.

Lance brought his arms up to encircle his sister, and he hugged her back.

"It's okay," he whispered. "I forgive you. I'm just glad you're here."

He closed his eyes, trying not to let the forming tears fall, and listened to her sniffle against his shoulder.

He really had missed her.


	91. tick tock hear the clock count down (don't you wish the minute hand could be rewound?)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro opened his eyes again.
> 
> The breeze blew, and applause sounded, and he breathed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ["One Day Too Late" - Skillet](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DN32j2b172c)

Shiro closed his eyes briefly as another breeze rippled around them, listening to the polite, scattered applause from the other family members in the crowd, and breathed.

They were in the J names now. Next up were the K's.

The K's as in Kogane. His child, his son, his Keith. Actually _graduating._

There had been a long while there where he never thought he would see the day. A while where suspensions for violence and runaway attempts that ended in them dragging a hurting teenager back home against his will, Keith kicking and screaming at them the entire way, felt like they were as good as it was going to get.

But they weren't. It wasn't. Keith wasn't the same person he had been this time last year, not even close.

And soon after the K names would come the M names. M as in McClain. McClain as in the sole _reason_ Keith had grown and changed enough to earn walking across that stage.

McClain as in a boy who had been through hell and back, yet still walked around with a smile on his face, handing out unconditional love like it was nothing but extra change from his pockets. And, somehow, he never seemed to run out.

_God,_ he was going to miss them. His kids. His two young, foolish, idiot children, who lost their minds over singular wrinkles in shirts and ate ketchup on eggs. His boys.

To his right, Lance's sister sniffled a little, a watery smile on her face. To his left, Adam squeezed his hand a little tighter.

Shiro opened his eyes again.

Adam leaned close to his ear and whispered. "So when are you going to tell them this Kerberos gig pays well enough that they're getting their own car as a graduation gift?"

Shiro smacked his arm lightly, as if the boys could even hear them from this distance. " _Shhh!_ "

The breeze blew, and applause sounded, and he breathed.


	92. here's to us, here's to love, to whatever's coming our way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He gave Lance a nod, firm and sure, because he was sure.
> 
> More sure than he'd ever been of anything.
> 
> "Always."

The sun was setting over rolling green hills that were manmade and not natural, but maybe now Keith was starting to understand why Lance loved them so much.

It didn't really matter that the lush green and the lakes were crafted by human hands. It didn't matter that they weren't true nature. They could still be beautiful. Because they were _home._

And, for Keith, mostly because Lance was at his side, holding his hand.

Mostly because this was the same spot where it all started. A first, breathless kiss, a brand new collar, and a promise.

"So this is, like, _our_ lake now, right?" Lance asked him, smiling.

Keith huffed in laughter. "Sure, Lance. I bet City Hall will absolutely agree with you on that. It's _our_ lake."

"Well, what are they gonna do?" His sub shrugged. "If they don't want people claiming their lakes, they should put up signs that say, like, _no first kisses here_ or something."

"Mmhm."

"It's _definitely_ ours. We'll start a petition or something."

"Of course we will, babe."

Lance leaned against him, pressing his grinning mouth into Keith's shoulder. Keith felt him nudging his shirt out of the way to press soft kisses into the warm skin of his collarbone.

He was perfect. It was the only thing he could think of in that moment, how absolutely _wonderful_ this boy was. Keith stared, and stared, and stared. He stared until Lance lifted his head, their faces a mere few inches apart, and quirked a single eyebrow.

"You're supposed to be watching the sunset," his sub nudged him playfully. "I thought we came out here to watch something beautiful."

Keith took a deep breath. "I am."

The blush was immediate and furious, turning Lance's cheeks a deep red. Keith wondered if he would ever figure out flustering him was half the point in saying things like that.

Lance's arms wrapped around his shoulders. He nuzzled into Keith's neck. Keith curled his own arm around Lance's waist, and held on for dear life.

"Keith?"

"Hm."

"We really are gonna be okay, aren't we?"

Keith blinked rapidly, swallowing. The sun was nearly gone now, just barely visible over the hills, and the light blue of dusk was beginning to take its place. He gave Lance a nod, firm and sure, because he _was_ sure.

More sure than he'd ever been of anything.

"Always."


	93. let's give em hell (wish everybody well)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance gulped. And then, slowly, a daring smirk spread across his face. 
> 
> With Keith by his side, he was more than ready to begin a new adventure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ["Here's To Us" - Halestorm](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DtdajyklQks)

_**Two Years Later** _

* * *

This was crazy, Lance thought. It felt like a fever dream. Absolutely _insane._

Insane that yesterday, he was falling asleep in the middle of a boring lecture, with Nevaeh throwing bits of bread at him from two rows back to keep him awake like the good samaritan she was - and now he was _here._

Here, in a giant blue Lion-esque alien space craft, with his hands on the controls and everybody looking at _him._

The wormhole loomed in front of them. Inviting. Captivating. Terrifying.

Five separate sets of eyes were on Lance. They waited patiently, watching him. Waiting for him to make a decision. Trusting him to make the right one.

But, really, only one set of eyes mattered to him. Keith was staring with an undeniable devotion in his eyes. Keith was trusting him to choose. Keith was ready to follow him into the depths of hell itself, if that was what it took. Keith was _there._

Out of all the surprises the past eighteen hours had wrought, there was one thing that didn't surprise Lance at all. He was not surprised in the slightest to find that Keith had been right all along. There really _was_ something out there, huge and mystical, just waiting for the two of them to come along and find it.

And now they had.

Lance gulped. And then, slowly, a daring smirk spread across his face. With Keith by his side, he was more than ready to begin a new adventure.

"Guess we're all ditching class tomorrow."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you....GUYS.
> 
> this is it. alas, the end is only the beginning!
> 
> that being said...[click here to read the summary for the upcoming sequel to this story!](https://langst-wins.tumblr.com/post/181498325171/requiem-blood-of-my-blood)
> 
> on that blog, I will also be posting random snippets/notes/posts about the sequel while i write! you can also send me an ask if you have questions about this series or anything else (asks can be sent publicly or anonymously) 
> 
> in the meantime, look out for a post-s8 klance oneshot, I will be posting it here on ao3!
> 
> thank you all so much for your love and support for this story! i'll see you back to continue this series on January 19th!


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